JК
The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
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«Do anything about Foyle's face?»
«We tried makeup but that didn't work. The damned tattooing showed through. Then I bought a dark skin-surrogate and sprayed it on.»
«Did that do it?»
«No,» Jiz said angrily. «You have to keep your face quiet or else the surrogate cracks and peels. Foyle couldn't control himself. He never can. It was hell.»
«Where is he now?»
«Sam Quatt's got him in tow.»
«I thought Sam retired from the rackets.»
«He did,» Jisbella said grimly, «But he owes me a favor. He's minding Foyle. They're circulating on the jaunte to stay ahead of the cops.»
«Interesting,» Baker murmured. «Haven't seen a tattoo case in all my life. Thought it was a dead art. I'd like to add him to my collection. You know I collect curios, Jiz?»
«Everybody knows that zoo of yours in Trenton, Baker. It's ghastly.»
«I picked up a genuine fraternal cyst last month,» Baker began enthusiastically.
«I don't want to hear about it,» Jiz snapped. «And I don't want Foyle in your zoo. Can you get the muck off his face? Clean it up? He says they were stymied at General Hospital.»
«They haven't had my experience, dear. Hmm. I seem to remember reading something once . . . somewhere . . . Now where did I…? Wait a minute.» Baker stood up and disappeared with a faint pop. Jisbella paced the veranda furiously until he reappeared twenty minutes later with a tattered book in his hands and a triumphant expression on his face.
«Got it,» Baker said. «Saw it in the Caltech stacks three years ago. You may admire my memory.»
«To hell with your memory. What about his face?»
«It can be done.» Baker flipped the fragile pages and meditated. «Yes, it can be done. Indigotin disulphonic acid. I may have to synthesize the acid but. . .» Baker closed the text and nodded emphatically. «I can do it. Only it seems a pity to tamper with that face if it's as unique as you describe.»
«Will you get off your hobby,» Jisbella exclaimed in exasperation. «We're hot, understand? The first that ever broke out of Gouffre Martel. The cops won't rest until they've got us back. This is extra-special for them.»
«But…”
«How long d'you think we can stay out of Gouffro Martel with Foyle running around with that tattooed face?»
«What are you so angry about?»
«I'm not angry. I'm explaining.»
«He'd be happy in the zoo,» Baker said persuasively. «And he'd be under cover there.
«Do anything about Foyle's face?»
«We tried makeup but that didn't work. The damned tattooing showed through. Then I bought a dark skin-surrogate and sprayed it on.»
«Did that do it?»
«No,» Jiz said angrily. «You have to keep your face quiet or else the surrogate cracks and peels. Foyle couldn't control himself. He never can. It was hell.»
«Where is he now?»
«Sam Quatt's got him in tow.»
«I thought Sam retired from the rackets.»
«He did,» Jisbella said grimly, «But he owes me a favor. He's minding Foyle. They're circulating on the jaunte to stay ahead of the cops.»
«Interesting,» Baker murmured. «Haven't seen a tattoo case in all my life. Thought it was a dead art. I'd like to add him to my collection. You know I collect curios, Jiz?»
«Everybody knows that zoo of yours in Trenton, Baker. It's ghastly.»
«I picked up a genuine fraternal cyst last month,» Baker began enthusiastically.
«I don't want to hear about it,» Jiz snapped. «And I don't want Foyle in your zoo. Can you get the muck off his face? Clean it up? He says they were stymied at General Hospital.»
«They haven't had my experience, dear. Hmm. I seem to remember reading something once . . . somewhere . . . Now where did I…? Wait a minute.» Baker stood up and disappeared with a faint pop. Jisbella paced the veranda furiously until he reappeared twenty minutes later with a tattered book in his hands and a triumphant expression on his face.
«Got it,» Baker said. «Saw it in the Caltech stacks three years ago. You may admire my memory.»
«To hell with your memory. What about his face?»
«It can be done.» Baker flipped the fragile pages and meditated. «Yes, it can be done. Indigotin disulphonic acid. I may have to synthesize the acid but. . .» Baker closed the text and nodded emphatically. «I can do it. Only it seems a pity to tamper with that face if it's as unique as you describe.»
«Will you get off your hobby,» Jisbella exclaimed in exasperation. «We're hot, understand? The first that ever broke out of Gouffre Martel. The cops won't rest until they've got us back. This is extra-special for them.»
«But…”
«How long d'you think we can stay out of Gouffro Martel with Foyle running around with that tattooed face?»
«What are you so angry about?»
«I'm not angry. I'm explaining.»
«He'd be happy in the zoo,» Baker said persuasively. «And he'd be under cover there.