what are pheromones?"
"Pheromones? They're like hormones that you smell. Airborne chemicals that can influence you. Tachyon was telling me about them one time. There was this joker I'd met. You sat too near him in a restaurant and anything you ate tasted like bananas. Anyway, it was pheromones, Tachy said. So what about them?"
"I don't know. The red guy was saying something about pheromones in connection with his wife when I came up. It didn't go any further."
"Nothing else?"
"Nothing else."
"Okay." Croyd wadded his paper towel and tossed it toward the wastebasket. "Let's go."
When they returned to the table Croyd counted out the money and passed it to his companion.
"Here. Can't say you didn't earn it."
Croyd regarded the strewn napkins, the slimy floor, and the moistness of the empty bag.
"What do you think we should do about the mess?"
Darlingfoot shrugged.
"The waiters will take care of it," he said. "They're used to it. Just make sure you leave a good tip."
Croyd hung back as they moved toward the park. Two figures were seated on a bench within, and even from the distance it was apparent that one man's face was bright red.
"Well?" Devil John asked.
"I'll give it a shot," Croyd said. "Pretend we're not together. I'll keep walking and you go on in and give them your spiel. I'll double back in a minute and cut through the park. I'll try to give them the business as soon as I get near. But you be ready. If it doesn't work this time we may have to resort to something more physical."
"Got you. Okay."
Croyd slowed his pace and Darlingfoot moved on ahead, crossing the street and entering upon a gravel walk leading to the bench. Croyd moved on to the corner, crossed slowly, and turned back.
He could hear their voices raised, as if in argument, when he drew nearer. He turned onto the trail and strolled toward the bench, his parcel at his side.
"...crock of shit!" he overheard Matthias say.
The man glanced in his direction, and Croyd realized that it was indeed the policeman he had encountered earlier. There was no sign of recognition on the man's face, but Croyd was certain that his talent must be telling him that an ace was approaching. So . . .
"Gentlemen," he said, focusing his thoughts, "everything that Devil John Darlingfoot has told you is correct. The body was destroyed by dogs. There is nothing for him to deliver. You will have to write this one off. You will forget me as soon as I have-"
He saw Darlingfoot turn his head suddenly, to glance past him. Croyd turned and looked in the same direction.
A young, plain-looking oriental woman was approaching, hands in the pockets of her coat, collar raised against the wind.
The wind shifted, blowing directly toward him now.
Something about the lady . . .
Croyd continued to stare. How could he have thought her plain? It must have been a trick of the light. She was breathtakingly lovely. In fact- He wanted her to smile at him.
He wanted to hold her. He wanted to run his hands all over her. He wanted to stroke her hair, to kiss her, to make love to her. She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on.
He heard Devil John whistle softly.
"Look at her, will you?"
"Hard not to," he replied.
He grinned at her, and she smiled back at him. He wanted to grab her. Instead, he said, "Hello."
"I'd like you to meet my wife, Kim Toy," he heard the red man say.
Kim Toy! Even her name was like music...
"Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you," he heard Devil John say to her. "You're so special it hurts."
She laughed.
"How gallant," she stated. "No, nothing. Not just now. Wait a moment, though, and perhaps I'll think of something."
"Do you have it?" she asked her husband.
"No. It was taken by dogs," he replied.
She cocked her head, quirked an eyebrow.
"Amazing fate," she said. "And how do you know this?"
"These gentlemen have told us about it."
"Really?" she observed. "That is so? That is what you told him?"
Devil John nodded.
"That's what we told him," Croyd said. "But-"
"And the bag you dropped when you saw me approaching," she said. "What might it contain? Open it, please, and show me."
"Of course," said Croyd.
"Anything you say," Devil John agreed.
Both men dropped to their knees before her and fumbled unsuccessfully for long seconds before they were able to begin unrolling the top of the bag.
Croyd wanted to kiss her feet while he was