Gris goes to Boyd's of London's US office to get Torpedo's insurance. This is of course a parody of Lloyd's of London, which got into trouble for being a tax haven and setting up cartels and whatnot. Rather than engage in a meaningful satire of the company's ups and downs in the wild world of insurance, Hubbard instead goes with less than a page of Gris haggling over his rate for "hit man insurance" with a nameless agent, who establishes his Britishness with an "eh, what?" and an "old chap." The important thing is that Gris gets a policy to give to Torpedo to give to his momma.
He does this very spy-like, writing a note with instructions for the hitman to get to Hairytown with his rifle and whack the people in an old-fashioned orange cab. Gris uses a special envelope with "Apparatus self-destruct paper. You write on it and then spray it lightly and then ten hours after it is opened it simply evaporates. No evidence." Then he goes by Dr. Finkelbaum's waiting room, sticks the note in a magazine, and casually leaves the periodical in the chair next to Torpedo. You might ask why the cloak-and-dagger is necessary if you can legally purchase insurance for hired killers, but then you may as well wonder what's in the spray Gris used to evaporate that paper, if it works on other substances, or why it doesn't evaporate the bottle it comes in.
With his message passed on successfully, Gris concludes that Krak will soon be dead and gets out his viewscreen to watch. But Krak and Bang-Bang haven't quite arrived at Hairytown yet, and Krak is trying to get Bang-Bang to take the cab "off this bumpy cart track and fly it." See, the Countess hasn't figured out that the difference between the cab (the thing with wheels) and helicopters (the things with whirlygigs on their tops) she's seen flying about, and puts Bang-Bang's refusal to take to the sky down to his fear of the police, who she promises to "fix" if they try and stop him.
I guess this is supposed to be the endearing confusion of a stranger in a strange land, rather than someone failing basic observations and threatening to mind-rape her way out of any difficulties. You gotta wonder why she didn't just mind-control Bang-Bang into doing what she wanted instead of wasting time driving around to mind-control others.
They reach Hairytown, which is a total void. There is no description of architecture or scenery, other than Gris noting how the place is "perfect sniper country: open and unobstructed" at the end of the chapter. Buildings exist only as signs advertising their function and the person inside, without any merchandise or frontage or anything. Street names exist, but there's nothing else on them worth mentioning. When Krak decides to ask for directions, Bang-Bang is immediately able to pull over, Krak reads the building's sign, and then she passes from the car to the interior without encountering anything in between. It's almost surreal.
The first shop they try is an antiques dealer, but when Krak says she's "supposed to be from around here" and wants to talk to Miss Agnes, the salesman turns his back on her, spits on the floor, and walks out. They try a sign painter, but she can't believe a "beautiful girl" like Krak would need to see a psychiatrist in general and "that God (bleeped) shrink in particular!" and refuses to give Krak the address. Krak notices that they're near Pokantickle "palace" and wants to try the direct approach, but Bang-Bang instead decides to try a service station.
This guy, "a hard-beaten, grease-spattered, service station manager type" - you know the kind I mean - listens to them ask about a Miss Agnes, corrects them by saying they mean Dr. Morelay, and then assumes that they're here about the woman's "land yacht." Without waiting for confirmation, the manager goes on to advise them to step lightly around Miss Agnes, since "She's a power in this area and can have you held under the insanity laws by just snapping her fingers," and on top of that they "have to be careful of her because of him," referring of course to the emperor of the planet.
And he tells these strangers - who were uncomfortably casual when referring to a dangerous woman but didn't know where she lived and never said what they wanted from her - how to get the "Morelay Estate." That's nice of him.
Gris ends the chapter gloating about how sniper-friendly the terrain is, as previously mentioned. I guess a featureless plane of roads and the rare signpost would be a pretty good shooting range. Probably hard to find cover to shoot from, though.
Back to Part Forty-Four, Chapter Eight
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