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Red Sea. The flow of wind and water slowsthen stops altogether. A
momentous thing has happened. And behind me there is a strangefamiliar noise. It is the
sound of shoes with little metal cleats tapping on the wood boards of the hallway.
“HiHumbert
” Dickwash says a bit squeakily. “So glad you could come.” I wonder
if Humbert Pestle has ever shown up to one of these soirées before. I wonder why he is
here now. Maybe Dickwash is up for promotion. Maybe Humbert’s about to eat him
alive.
“Richard
” Humbert Pestle says jovially
“I wouldn’t have missed it for worlds. But
I’m taking you away from your guest.” Not guestspluraljust me. Humbert Pestle
sticks out a muscular hand. The other one (the possible prosthetic) is tuckedgenial old-fart
styleinto his trouser pocket. This makes him uneven and a bit rumpledbut his clothes are
so perfect (no doubt Royce Allen cut and stitched every bit himselffrom the purest
milk-washed brontosaurus foreskin) that he just looks terribly relaxed. Which he is.
“I’m Pestlecall me Humbert
—”
I recognise the line from his briefing at Harrisburgand give him the next bit:
“Pestle like
mortar . . .”
He stares for a moment then says
“M [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]yilai:
[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

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