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took a handful of tiny, poisonously bright cakes and wolfed them down. Houbert had receded in dignity again; he wasabout at Peter Ustinov in
Spartacus
now. Hadn’t there been a point to this feast of fools, anyway? Oh, yeah. “I was supposed to have a briefing of some kind, wasn’t I?”
    “Oh, that,” said Houbert dismissively. “I assume the ever-so-efficient Lewis provided you with most of the mundane facts. As for the classified material …” He began to smile again. “I’ve set you another little test. Your access code strip is here, within reach. To find it, you have only to use the imagination and ingenuity that stood you in such good stead when the High Priest of Dagon tried to have you stoned!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

    I T TOOK ME ABOUT TWO days to recover from Theobromine poisoning, but after that I had a swell vacation. I watched a lot of cinema. Played a lot of tennis. Watched serene Mayans putting up holiday decorations to which they had absolutely no cultural connection. Ate many tasty meals at the several excellent restaurants provided for my dining pleasure. Went to three holiday parties and won a door prize at one of them (bottle of aftershave). Looked up a number of old pals I hadn’t seen in centuries. They hadn’t changed at all (big surprise!).
    Also, I accessed the code strips relating to my upcoming assignment. They gave me a lot of research material to integrate and store in my tertiary consciousness. They also gave me a duty I was not looking forward to.
    I was returning my racquet to the Mayan attendant one afternoon when I was dumb enough to ask, “How do I get to the Botany Department from here?”
    He looked over my shoulder and whistled. I turned to see four big Indians swerve in my direction and set down the sedan chairthey had been carrying. “The Son of Heaven wishes to go to the Botany Department,” he told them.
    “Okay,” they replied in unison, and before I could say a word in protest, they had done a neatly synchronized dip and the attendant had picked me up bodily and shot-putted me into the passenger compartment, so smoothly the other passenger wasn’t even jostled. “Well, hi there.” Mendoza smiled at my discomposure. “Happy Solstice Season.”
    “Hi.” I braced myself as the chair was lifted, but it rose smooth as anything and just flew off. You couldn’t have known there were straining mortal muscles or a drop of mortal sweat connected with the motion in any way.
    “Don’t you find this just a little embarrassing?” I asked her, struggling to get comfortable.
    “I used to.” Mendoza yawned elaborately. “Nowadays I just say what the hell and ride. It’s easier than arguing with them, and they find it so fulfilling.”
    “Fulfilling?” I looked down on the nodding plumes.
    “I think they enjoy debasing themselves. What else is there for them to do around here, after all? They’re decadent. We’re decadent. Everybody’s decadent at New World One. Here, have some Theobromos.” She proffered a bar with an ironical gesture.
    Irony or not, I accepted. Enough time had passed since that fatal brunch for me to be able to look at the stuff again, and besides, even with the ordinary formula, New World One has the best you can get anywhere and you never, never turn it down when it’s offered. Nectar and ambrosia, baby. I leaned back in the chair and felt my spirits rise.
    “Yes, this is an amazing place. Kind of confining, though, isn’t it?”
    “Is it?” Mendoza raised an inquiring eyebrow.
    “All this manicured luxury, I mean. I’ll be glad to get out in the field again, personally.”
    “That’s right, your California trip.” She looked out idly at the passing scenery. “Fun with Stone Age people. Have you found out more about it?”
    “I’ve had some briefing, yes.”
    “How nice for you. Why were you going over to Botany?” Such a cold black stare she had.
    “Oh, just to look over one or two things connected with the job,” I