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something behind her back. In my groggy state I thought of the Greek sacrificial rites. Now that I had publicly performed, was I going to join Uranus in losing my (bleeps)?
    My confidence was not helped a bit when she reached down and jiggled them.
    "Inkswitch," she said, "I have a surprise for you."
    I flinched. I did not like surprises from Miss Pinch.
    "How did you like Spike and Lover-girl?" she asked.
    "Surprisingly," I said.
    "And Algernon?"
    "Once you got rid of her stale cigar smoke, passing, passing."
    "As good as me and Candy?" she said with a glint in her eye.
    Fear, pure fear, dictated my response. "Nothing to compare!" I cried.
    "Well, that's just fine, Inkswitch," and to my relief she let go my (bleeps). "Because, Inkswitch, me and the crowd came to an arrangement. Each night right after work, a couple of those girls are going to drop in for a bang. They're all agreed. They will be ladies about it and take their turn."
    I gulped. I did not like the stern look which was seeping over her face.
    "But, God (bleep) you, Inkswitch, this is not to interfere with what you do to Candy and me all night!"
    She was reaching toward my (bleeps) again. I said hurriedly, "I promise. Oh, Miss Pinch, never think I would fail to live up to my contract. I am a man of honor."
    "I'm glad of that," she said. "Because if you aren't, I'll cut your (bleeps) off."
    I knew it!
    And then she smiled. "But it's not all bad news, Ink-switch. They emptied their purses into this wastebasket. I added five thousand dollars for your great show. You've been asking for ten G's. And here is twelve thousand bucks."
    I gaped into the wastebasket she held under my nose. It was full of MONEY!
    "Now stop drooling," Miss Pinch said, "and jump into a shower and get the blood off you while we change the sheets. Candy and I have been saving you for days for this sprint. And we're God (bleeped) near dying of sex starvation, to say nothing of getting hot as fire from that show tonight!"
    I went into the shower singing.
    TWELVE G's!
    I could pay my bill to Razza.
    I could buy a hit man.
    COUNTESS KRAK, YOU'RE DEAD!
PART FORTY-FOUR
Chapter 1
    I had been told on the phone I could have an appointment with Razza Louseini later in the day, and so I utilized my time in checking up on the target, Countess Krak.
    When I turned on the viewers in the back room, I was a little disoriented at first. I couldn't quite make out where Krak and Heller were. It was midmorning and all I got was stacks of books and pages going by too fast for me to see what books they were.
    I had to backtrack the recorded strips to find out what they were up to, for I assumed quite rightly that it meant no good for me.
    They were up early and, both dressed in stylish blue running sweat suits, had trotted out of the Empire State Building Fifth Avenue side and had gone north the eight blocks to the New York Public Library on 42nd Street. Except for the presence of Heller, or even with it, the Countess Krak's back would have made a perfect sniper target all the way.
    And now they were in the huge reference room. Heller was sitting at a table. The Countess Krak was working the card catalogue and turning in slips and pulling books out of the chute when they came. She was doing strictly gofer work.
    That they were in running suits, even though this was a current style, filled me with alarm. It seemed to indicate too much eagerness for progress and that was something I strictly did not want.
    Finally, she had him so boxed in with towers of books that she had to stand on tiptoe to see him. She looked intently at his face. He seemed to be puzzled, somewhat stopped. She came around and sat down in a chair beside him.
    She leaned toward his ear. In Voltarian, she whispered, "If you would tell me what you're trying to do, Jettero, I could help you more."
    He pulled a huge sheet he was working on out from under a tome on social organizations. "This," he whispered back, "is a workout of a mathematics we use in