I always forget to take a guide book when I travel. This makes my life more fun but it also may have been why I was fired from my job as foreign correspondent for The Sociologist. I could never get to news events in time, usually because I was trying to explain to some uncomprehending official that I simply hadn't known how to buy a tram or bus ticket. Now I was standing around the desolate arrival area of Prague airport, fidgeting with my bags under the increasingly suspicious scrutiny of the customs personnel, wondering what to do next. I noticed uneasily that the airport security people were armed with wicked-looking Kalashnikovs. One of them began to move towards me.
Luckily, the devil takes care of his own. At that moment I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned sharply and stared into a pair of wide azure eyes, blueberries set in peaches and cream, all framed by an ash-blonde halo, and beneath, billowing white drapery. I blinked. I wasn't drunk enough to be having hallucinations but I did seem to be staring at an angel.
"Are you going to the University of Truth and Justice?" the angel asked dubiously. Angels have North Amerikan accents! The angel smiled, blinding me in the shiny glow of perfect white teeth. "I wasn't sure that it was you I was supposed to pick up but you were the only one who seemed so... lost."
"I was lost but now I am found," I said fervently. It was the angel's turn to blink, great sweeps of thick honeyed lashes. She bit the lower petal of her rosebud mouth. "Don't worry," I said. "I'm harmless. Will you take me wherever you're going?"
"Follow me," the angel said. We emerged from the airport terminal. The angel disappeared into a (what else?) white Cadillac stretch limousine. I got in beside her. The taxi drivers stood staring in outraged disbelief. The angel tapped the dark panel in front and spoke a few words in a language I had never heard before. We drove off. "I'm Lucy," the angel said, lying back in the plush upholstery. I saw now that her angelic drapery was a long white dress. "I work at the University." I could hear her capitalize the word.
"I'm so glad. What do you do besides picking up strays at the airport?"
"Oh, this and that," Lucy murmured. "I'm the Special Assistant to the Director."
"And who's the director?"
Lucy looked at me sharply. "Didn't they tell you?"
"No. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing at the university."
"Be patient," Lucy breathed. I had to move closer to hear her. I could see the rise and fall of her chest. Angels have breasts! (Cute ones too.)"The Director will tell you."
"When do I get to meet him?"
"He's a very busy man. But I'm sure he'll want to meet you."
"What's his name?"
"Tomas Masaryk. But he doesn't like people to make a fuss about it. He's very modest. Even though he's so important." I closed my eyes and inhaled Lucy's perfume. She exuded the aroma of fresh mountain flowers, I think, but then it had been a long time since I had sat in an alpine meadow and I don't know anything about flowers anyway.
"Have you ever been to Berlin?" Lucy asked suddenly.
"A few times," I replied cautiously. "They never let me stay very long. Why?"
"Is it nice?"
"Nice?" I grinned. "I'm not sure it's nice but I certainly enjoyed myself."
"Do you enjoy debauchery and decadence?" Lucy demanded primly.
I sat up and stared at her. "Doesn't everyone?"
"Who hired you?"
"Terence Killjoy-Yuck," I said, slumping back and closing my eyes again. Lucy's perfume now smelled like fruit, ripe juicy fruit, overflowing with sticky sweetness. Had Terence received the mango I had sent him as thanksgiving for procuring me this job? Mangoes are messy if you don't know how to eat them and I was sure that Terence didn't. "He was my tutor at Oxford. Do you know him?"
"He's also very important at the University. I don't know exactly what he does. But that doesn't matter, does it?" Lucy laughed prettily. I opened my eyes to look at her. "Their titles change all the time. Sometimes the Director is called the Academic Head. Another day he's the Principal. Dr. Killjoy-Yuck is the President of the University Senate at the moment. He used to be the Chairman of the Executive Committee." She waved a dainty hand airily. "But titles don't matter. What matters is that Professor Masaryk and Dr. Killjoy-Yuck enjoy the confidence of Our Benefactor."
"And who is that?"
"Come on!" Lucy pouted. "They must have told you that!"
"Lucy, dear," I protested, taking her smooth little hand in mine. "They didn't tell me anything. But I enjoy their confidence," I went on, winningly. "They wouldn't have hired me otherwise, would they?"
Lucy obviously agreed with my relentless logic since she let me stroke her hand. "The University of Truth and Justice is the brainchild of Our Founder, Mister Hdzhooohdzh..."
"Mister what?"
Lucy jerked her hand away and frowned. Angels can be petulant! "Hdzhooohdzh," she repeated. "Spelled 'X-O-X'. Okay?"
"What kind of name is that?"
"Albanian," Lucy replied coolly. "In Albanian, the consonant 'x' is pronounced in this guttural fashion as 'hdzh' and the vowel 'o' is often elongated."
"Wow," I said admiringly. "Where did you learn that?"
"I studied linguistics at Brigham Young University in Utah. Besides English I speak six languages with fluency."
"Wait a second." I edged away from her. "Brigham Young University. Are you a Mormon?"
She looked at me unblinkingly. "I am serving here for the time being."
"Serving here? Does that mean that you're converting people?"
"There is one God and one true Prophet."
"Allah u Akbar," I agreed, taking a deep breath. "Go on. Tell me more about Mister Hdz..."
"Mister Xox," Lucy said kindly. "is Our Sponsor. He pays for the University."
"Why?"
"Who can say?" Lucy cast her eyes adoringly towards her heaven. "The ways of Our Donor are marvelous indeed."
"Well, what does Mister Hdzh..."
"Oh, call Him Mister X," Lucy said impatiently. "Most people do. Were you asking what Our Patron says about his reasons for setting up the University?"
"Right."
"Well, Our Master has declared that the West is not doing enough for Central and Eastern Europe and, therefore, that private initiatives are required to push forward much needed investment in the human infrastructure of the region and so he is spending several hundred million dollars in setting up colleges all over these post-communist countries to promote the values of Truth and Justice," Lucy recited. I noticed for the first time the sing-song quality of her soprano voice. I also noticed her perfume welling over me in heavy overpowering waves. My eyes had closed again and I slipped right down in my seat.
"You're tired," Lucy chanted. She took my head onto her lap. I could feel her leaning over, swaying gently over me. I tried to open my eyelids to stare down her cleavage but I just couldn't bother. I wondered idly who had trained Lucy in hypnosis. Angels might be dangerous! Very dangerous! "You are very tired. And confused. This makes you even more tired. You need vitamins. I'll give you vitamins. Lots of vitamins. Everything will be all right."
"I'm sure it will, Lucy," I mumbled, my head nestled between her soft breasts. "I'm sure everything will be just fine." And then I toppled into deep sleep. Not altogether dreamless: I had disturbing images of Lucy, angelic in white, a virginal sacrifice to a smiling hairless Oriental idol. But then the bald Buddha opened his smiling mouth and laughed and I realized he was…
"Wake up," the voice insisted. "Wake up! Or else you'll miss dinner." I squinted up at a pair of azure eyes. I was lying in a bed. Naked. I closed my eyes tightly and cowered beneath the covers. What had I done now, and, more to the point, with whom?
Slowly, it all came back to me. I had fallen asleep on the limousine ride from Prague airport to the University of Truth and Justice and the insistent voice and azure eyes belonged to Lucy, the demented Mormon angel who had picked me up at the airport, and who was now sitting cross-legged next to me on the bed in her white dress.
"If you don't get up this instant I'll go away immediately."
"I can only get up if you go away immediately," I retorted. "I have to put some clothes on."
"Pooh!" Lucy snorted scornfully. "Who do you think undressed you and put you to bed?"
"You did? How come you still have your clothes on then?"
"Actually it was the chauffeur. But I'm not scared of seeing you naked. I've seen more naked bodies than you could count."
I sat up, interested. "Lucy, what exactly did the Mormons make you do?"
"Nursing, silly. Now get up. Here." Lucy handed me a pile of clothes. "I'll look the other way if you're so shy. But hurry up."
I got dressed quickly. I recognized these clothes. I'd thrown them into my suitcase just that morning after all. "Did the chauffeur unpack my bags as well?"
"No, I did." Lucy giggled. "You've got a lot of cosmetics."
"They are not cosmetics," I said hotly. "I've got sensitive skin, that's all."
"Sissy." I followed Lucy out of the room and down a long brightly lit corridor. She handed me a key during the smooth elevator ride. "If you ever leave the building, leave your key at the reception desk." We stepped out into a gigantic empty room and walked up to a wall lined with stainless steel food hatches. Lucy handed me a small card. "There's your identity card. Get whatever you want and then show the card to that lady sitting there."
"Whatever I want?"
"Anything at all. Gobble away to your heart's content. Our Lord pays for everything."
"Mister X?"
Lucy sighed. "Are you always this slow? Of course I mean Him. He wants us to be well-fed and happy. Ask and he shall provide. His generosity knows no bounds."
"Do you know how much I'll get paid?"
Lucy looked confused. "Paid?"
"Cash," I said patiently. "Dollars. Pounds. Marks. Yen." Lucy still didn't seem to understand. "Uh... cheques? Drafts? Bank transfers?" I rubbed my thumb against the tips of my fingers and looked hopefully at her. "Money?"
Heaping plates of steaming food were passed out to us through the serving hatches by anonymous hands. (My menu choice for the evening was venison pate, steak Chateaubriand, and crème caramel with raspberry sauce for dessert.) An apple-cheeked middle-aged lady in a starched apron looked at my card and smiled at me sweetly. "You're new here," she said. "Welcome! Peace and love!"
I smiled back uncertainly and followed Lucy to a table by the huge windows at the far side of the room. "Peace and love?"
"Peace and love," Lucy beamed. "That's how we greet each other here. Isn't it nice? You'll get used to it."
I groaned and looked around while the venison pate melted in my mouth. Small groups of smiling people sat around at their dispersed tables, engrossed in lively conversation as they feasted. A string quartet was playing beautiful music in the background. Thick white curtains fell artfully from the high ceiling, half concealing the bright lights of the city below. The atmosphere in the room was calm and peaceful. I wasn't sure how long I could stand it. "Are you all hippies or something?" An idea struck me. "Was X a hippie?"
"Mister X," Lucy corrected me. "Do you mean those people who used to wear beads and had long dirty hair and listened to all that loud music?"
"Lucy, how old are you? How can you not have even heard of hippies? Yes, I suppose I do mean those people who used to wear beads. Does this Mister X wear beads?"
"Mister Xox usually wears grey suits and his hair is..." Lucy giggled merrily, "certainly not long. In fact, he doesn't have any hair at all. As to your first question, I had a sheltered upbringing."
I have a single-track mind. "Actually, my first question was about money."
"Why do you need all those dirty bits of paper?"
"Well... To go to a bar and buy a drink?"
"This building has three different bars where you can get a drink at any time of day or night by showing your card to the barman. Although the University encourages its employees to avoid alcohol or to use it only in moderation." A waiter came up at that moment with a trolley laden with drinks. I gratefully grabbed a beer, drained it at a gulp, and took another one and a deep breath. Lucy looked on impassively.
"What if I want to leave the building and buy a newspaper and sit in a cafe and drink coffee and write postcards which I buy impulsively on the street?"
"Newspapers are delivered to your room every morning. There are postcards, paper, and envelopes on top of your minibar. There are two cafes in the building besides the three bars I mentioned. Why would you want to go outside?" Lucy seemed genuinely surprised.
"What if I want to go for a walk? See the sights?"
"Oh, of course you can do that!" Lucy smiled. "Just ask at reception for tram tickets and pocket money."
"Pocket money? Lucy, I am not ten years old. I go to the bathroom by myself and everything!" I felt an irrational outrage welling up in me.
"Why are you shouting?" Lucy looked concerned. "Are you upset about something? Can I help you?" She thought for a second and then smiled at me brightly. "Would you like to go to the sauna with me after dinner?"
"No, I don't want to go to the sauna after dinner!"
"Don't you like me?" Lucy's lower lip quivered.
I'm a sucker for quivering lower lips. I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. "Lucy, I like you fine. It's just that I'm used to money. When I feel insecure about myself, it reassures me to press the nice thick wallet in my jacket pocket against my heart. I like spending money. It's fun." I leaned forward persuasively. "Look. Wouldn't you like me to take you out to dinner sometime? In a nice restaurant. There must be some nice restaurants in Prague. Nice candlelight. Nice wine. Nice soft music. And then the nice waiter comes up at the end of the meal and discreetly puts a plate on the table and on the plate there is a nice piece of paper with numbers on it, and that's when I'll pull out my nice lizard skin wallet and pay. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"Oh, we go to restaurants all the time," Lucy said indulgently. "You just ask reception to book a table and they tell the people at the restaurant that we're from the University of Truth and Justice. And then you don't have to pay."
"But doesn't that take all the fun out of it? The whole point of all that candlelight and soft music is that people work all day to make the money to be able to relax with people they like. That's what capitalism is all about! Is this guy, Socks, a communist or something?"
Lucy's blue eyes narrowed. "Where did you hear Him called Socks? You told me that you had never even heard of Him."
"Oh, I don't know," I said lamely. "It just came to me."
I squirmed in my seat for a while under Lucy's silent scrutiny. Presently she smiled. I smiled back. She ran a finger lightly over my hand. Then she reached into her white drapery and pulled out a little bottle. "I almost forgot to give you these!" she giggled. "Vitamins. You can get more at reception. Wasn't that silly of me to forget?"
"Thank you." I said, touched. "That was sweet of you. I forgot to buy a supply before I left England. It was all so rushed."
"Of course it was. Don't you want to take one now?"
"Sure. Why not?" I washed the little pill down with the last of my beer. We sat around for a while in companionable silence, then got up and walked back to the elevator. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the sauna?" Lucy asked. "It has every facility."
"Not tonight, Lucy. I'm tired," I said truthfully. "I'll just go back to my room and sleep."
Lucy nodded. "That's probably best. You can sleep late. I don't think Professor Masaryk will be able to see you for a day or two. He's so busy right now."
"Just as well." I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me. "It's been so hectic in the last few days…"
"Of course," Lucy said, kissing me on the cheek. "That's why you're being so cranky. You're just tired. Good night. Peace and love!."
"Peace and love!" I replied as the elevator door closed. I staggered down the hallway to my room, opened the door, fumbled with my clothes and dropped them on the carpet in an untidy heap. I barely managed to brush my teeth before crawling into bed. Nice bed. Nice warm comforter. Everything in the whole wide world was very nice. Peace and love...
Later in the night, a white shape came noiselessly into my room and slid into bed with me, a warm soft presence that felt like a dream. I was just awake enough to enjoy myself with my lovely succubus for the rest of the night. What we did probably wasn't nice but it sure was fun.
Luckily, the devil takes care of his own. At that moment I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned sharply and stared into a pair of wide azure eyes, blueberries set in peaches and cream, all framed by an ash-blonde halo, and beneath, billowing white drapery. I blinked. I wasn't drunk enough to be having hallucinations but I did seem to be staring at an angel.
"Are you going to the University of Truth and Justice?" the angel asked dubiously. Angels have North Amerikan accents! The angel smiled, blinding me in the shiny glow of perfect white teeth. "I wasn't sure that it was you I was supposed to pick up but you were the only one who seemed so... lost."
"I was lost but now I am found," I said fervently. It was the angel's turn to blink, great sweeps of thick honeyed lashes. She bit the lower petal of her rosebud mouth. "Don't worry," I said. "I'm harmless. Will you take me wherever you're going?"
"Follow me," the angel said. We emerged from the airport terminal. The angel disappeared into a (what else?) white Cadillac stretch limousine. I got in beside her. The taxi drivers stood staring in outraged disbelief. The angel tapped the dark panel in front and spoke a few words in a language I had never heard before. We drove off. "I'm Lucy," the angel said, lying back in the plush upholstery. I saw now that her angelic drapery was a long white dress. "I work at the University." I could hear her capitalize the word.
"I'm so glad. What do you do besides picking up strays at the airport?"
"Oh, this and that," Lucy murmured. "I'm the Special Assistant to the Director."
"And who's the director?"
Lucy looked at me sharply. "Didn't they tell you?"
"No. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing at the university."
"Be patient," Lucy breathed. I had to move closer to hear her. I could see the rise and fall of her chest. Angels have breasts! (Cute ones too.)"The Director will tell you."
"When do I get to meet him?"
"He's a very busy man. But I'm sure he'll want to meet you."
"What's his name?"
"Tomas Masaryk. But he doesn't like people to make a fuss about it. He's very modest. Even though he's so important." I closed my eyes and inhaled Lucy's perfume. She exuded the aroma of fresh mountain flowers, I think, but then it had been a long time since I had sat in an alpine meadow and I don't know anything about flowers anyway.
"Have you ever been to Berlin?" Lucy asked suddenly.
"A few times," I replied cautiously. "They never let me stay very long. Why?"
"Is it nice?"
"Nice?" I grinned. "I'm not sure it's nice but I certainly enjoyed myself."
"Do you enjoy debauchery and decadence?" Lucy demanded primly.
I sat up and stared at her. "Doesn't everyone?"
"Who hired you?"
"Terence Killjoy-Yuck," I said, slumping back and closing my eyes again. Lucy's perfume now smelled like fruit, ripe juicy fruit, overflowing with sticky sweetness. Had Terence received the mango I had sent him as thanksgiving for procuring me this job? Mangoes are messy if you don't know how to eat them and I was sure that Terence didn't. "He was my tutor at Oxford. Do you know him?"
"He's also very important at the University. I don't know exactly what he does. But that doesn't matter, does it?" Lucy laughed prettily. I opened my eyes to look at her. "Their titles change all the time. Sometimes the Director is called the Academic Head. Another day he's the Principal. Dr. Killjoy-Yuck is the President of the University Senate at the moment. He used to be the Chairman of the Executive Committee." She waved a dainty hand airily. "But titles don't matter. What matters is that Professor Masaryk and Dr. Killjoy-Yuck enjoy the confidence of Our Benefactor."
"And who is that?"
"Come on!" Lucy pouted. "They must have told you that!"
"Lucy, dear," I protested, taking her smooth little hand in mine. "They didn't tell me anything. But I enjoy their confidence," I went on, winningly. "They wouldn't have hired me otherwise, would they?"
Lucy obviously agreed with my relentless logic since she let me stroke her hand. "The University of Truth and Justice is the brainchild of Our Founder, Mister Hdzhooohdzh..."
"Mister what?"
Lucy jerked her hand away and frowned. Angels can be petulant! "Hdzhooohdzh," she repeated. "Spelled 'X-O-X'. Okay?"
"What kind of name is that?"
"Albanian," Lucy replied coolly. "In Albanian, the consonant 'x' is pronounced in this guttural fashion as 'hdzh' and the vowel 'o' is often elongated."
"Wow," I said admiringly. "Where did you learn that?"
"I studied linguistics at Brigham Young University in Utah. Besides English I speak six languages with fluency."
"Wait a second." I edged away from her. "Brigham Young University. Are you a Mormon?"
She looked at me unblinkingly. "I am serving here for the time being."
"Serving here? Does that mean that you're converting people?"
"There is one God and one true Prophet."
"Allah u Akbar," I agreed, taking a deep breath. "Go on. Tell me more about Mister Hdz..."
"Mister Xox," Lucy said kindly. "is Our Sponsor. He pays for the University."
"Why?"
"Who can say?" Lucy cast her eyes adoringly towards her heaven. "The ways of Our Donor are marvelous indeed."
"Well, what does Mister Hdzh..."
"Oh, call Him Mister X," Lucy said impatiently. "Most people do. Were you asking what Our Patron says about his reasons for setting up the University?"
"Right."
"Well, Our Master has declared that the West is not doing enough for Central and Eastern Europe and, therefore, that private initiatives are required to push forward much needed investment in the human infrastructure of the region and so he is spending several hundred million dollars in setting up colleges all over these post-communist countries to promote the values of Truth and Justice," Lucy recited. I noticed for the first time the sing-song quality of her soprano voice. I also noticed her perfume welling over me in heavy overpowering waves. My eyes had closed again and I slipped right down in my seat.
"You're tired," Lucy chanted. She took my head onto her lap. I could feel her leaning over, swaying gently over me. I tried to open my eyelids to stare down her cleavage but I just couldn't bother. I wondered idly who had trained Lucy in hypnosis. Angels might be dangerous! Very dangerous! "You are very tired. And confused. This makes you even more tired. You need vitamins. I'll give you vitamins. Lots of vitamins. Everything will be all right."
"I'm sure it will, Lucy," I mumbled, my head nestled between her soft breasts. "I'm sure everything will be just fine." And then I toppled into deep sleep. Not altogether dreamless: I had disturbing images of Lucy, angelic in white, a virginal sacrifice to a smiling hairless Oriental idol. But then the bald Buddha opened his smiling mouth and laughed and I realized he was…
"Wake up," the voice insisted. "Wake up! Or else you'll miss dinner." I squinted up at a pair of azure eyes. I was lying in a bed. Naked. I closed my eyes tightly and cowered beneath the covers. What had I done now, and, more to the point, with whom?
Slowly, it all came back to me. I had fallen asleep on the limousine ride from Prague airport to the University of Truth and Justice and the insistent voice and azure eyes belonged to Lucy, the demented Mormon angel who had picked me up at the airport, and who was now sitting cross-legged next to me on the bed in her white dress.
"If you don't get up this instant I'll go away immediately."
"I can only get up if you go away immediately," I retorted. "I have to put some clothes on."
"Pooh!" Lucy snorted scornfully. "Who do you think undressed you and put you to bed?"
"You did? How come you still have your clothes on then?"
"Actually it was the chauffeur. But I'm not scared of seeing you naked. I've seen more naked bodies than you could count."
I sat up, interested. "Lucy, what exactly did the Mormons make you do?"
"Nursing, silly. Now get up. Here." Lucy handed me a pile of clothes. "I'll look the other way if you're so shy. But hurry up."
I got dressed quickly. I recognized these clothes. I'd thrown them into my suitcase just that morning after all. "Did the chauffeur unpack my bags as well?"
"No, I did." Lucy giggled. "You've got a lot of cosmetics."
"They are not cosmetics," I said hotly. "I've got sensitive skin, that's all."
"Sissy." I followed Lucy out of the room and down a long brightly lit corridor. She handed me a key during the smooth elevator ride. "If you ever leave the building, leave your key at the reception desk." We stepped out into a gigantic empty room and walked up to a wall lined with stainless steel food hatches. Lucy handed me a small card. "There's your identity card. Get whatever you want and then show the card to that lady sitting there."
"Whatever I want?"
"Anything at all. Gobble away to your heart's content. Our Lord pays for everything."
"Mister X?"
Lucy sighed. "Are you always this slow? Of course I mean Him. He wants us to be well-fed and happy. Ask and he shall provide. His generosity knows no bounds."
"Do you know how much I'll get paid?"
Lucy looked confused. "Paid?"
"Cash," I said patiently. "Dollars. Pounds. Marks. Yen." Lucy still didn't seem to understand. "Uh... cheques? Drafts? Bank transfers?" I rubbed my thumb against the tips of my fingers and looked hopefully at her. "Money?"
Heaping plates of steaming food were passed out to us through the serving hatches by anonymous hands. (My menu choice for the evening was venison pate, steak Chateaubriand, and crème caramel with raspberry sauce for dessert.) An apple-cheeked middle-aged lady in a starched apron looked at my card and smiled at me sweetly. "You're new here," she said. "Welcome! Peace and love!"
I smiled back uncertainly and followed Lucy to a table by the huge windows at the far side of the room. "Peace and love?"
"Peace and love," Lucy beamed. "That's how we greet each other here. Isn't it nice? You'll get used to it."
I groaned and looked around while the venison pate melted in my mouth. Small groups of smiling people sat around at their dispersed tables, engrossed in lively conversation as they feasted. A string quartet was playing beautiful music in the background. Thick white curtains fell artfully from the high ceiling, half concealing the bright lights of the city below. The atmosphere in the room was calm and peaceful. I wasn't sure how long I could stand it. "Are you all hippies or something?" An idea struck me. "Was X a hippie?"
"Mister X," Lucy corrected me. "Do you mean those people who used to wear beads and had long dirty hair and listened to all that loud music?"
"Lucy, how old are you? How can you not have even heard of hippies? Yes, I suppose I do mean those people who used to wear beads. Does this Mister X wear beads?"
"Mister Xox usually wears grey suits and his hair is..." Lucy giggled merrily, "certainly not long. In fact, he doesn't have any hair at all. As to your first question, I had a sheltered upbringing."
I have a single-track mind. "Actually, my first question was about money."
"Why do you need all those dirty bits of paper?"
"Well... To go to a bar and buy a drink?"
"This building has three different bars where you can get a drink at any time of day or night by showing your card to the barman. Although the University encourages its employees to avoid alcohol or to use it only in moderation." A waiter came up at that moment with a trolley laden with drinks. I gratefully grabbed a beer, drained it at a gulp, and took another one and a deep breath. Lucy looked on impassively.
"What if I want to leave the building and buy a newspaper and sit in a cafe and drink coffee and write postcards which I buy impulsively on the street?"
"Newspapers are delivered to your room every morning. There are postcards, paper, and envelopes on top of your minibar. There are two cafes in the building besides the three bars I mentioned. Why would you want to go outside?" Lucy seemed genuinely surprised.
"What if I want to go for a walk? See the sights?"
"Oh, of course you can do that!" Lucy smiled. "Just ask at reception for tram tickets and pocket money."
"Pocket money? Lucy, I am not ten years old. I go to the bathroom by myself and everything!" I felt an irrational outrage welling up in me.
"Why are you shouting?" Lucy looked concerned. "Are you upset about something? Can I help you?" She thought for a second and then smiled at me brightly. "Would you like to go to the sauna with me after dinner?"
"No, I don't want to go to the sauna after dinner!"
"Don't you like me?" Lucy's lower lip quivered.
I'm a sucker for quivering lower lips. I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. "Lucy, I like you fine. It's just that I'm used to money. When I feel insecure about myself, it reassures me to press the nice thick wallet in my jacket pocket against my heart. I like spending money. It's fun." I leaned forward persuasively. "Look. Wouldn't you like me to take you out to dinner sometime? In a nice restaurant. There must be some nice restaurants in Prague. Nice candlelight. Nice wine. Nice soft music. And then the nice waiter comes up at the end of the meal and discreetly puts a plate on the table and on the plate there is a nice piece of paper with numbers on it, and that's when I'll pull out my nice lizard skin wallet and pay. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"Oh, we go to restaurants all the time," Lucy said indulgently. "You just ask reception to book a table and they tell the people at the restaurant that we're from the University of Truth and Justice. And then you don't have to pay."
"But doesn't that take all the fun out of it? The whole point of all that candlelight and soft music is that people work all day to make the money to be able to relax with people they like. That's what capitalism is all about! Is this guy, Socks, a communist or something?"
Lucy's blue eyes narrowed. "Where did you hear Him called Socks? You told me that you had never even heard of Him."
"Oh, I don't know," I said lamely. "It just came to me."
I squirmed in my seat for a while under Lucy's silent scrutiny. Presently she smiled. I smiled back. She ran a finger lightly over my hand. Then she reached into her white drapery and pulled out a little bottle. "I almost forgot to give you these!" she giggled. "Vitamins. You can get more at reception. Wasn't that silly of me to forget?"
"Thank you." I said, touched. "That was sweet of you. I forgot to buy a supply before I left England. It was all so rushed."
"Of course it was. Don't you want to take one now?"
"Sure. Why not?" I washed the little pill down with the last of my beer. We sat around for a while in companionable silence, then got up and walked back to the elevator. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the sauna?" Lucy asked. "It has every facility."
"Not tonight, Lucy. I'm tired," I said truthfully. "I'll just go back to my room and sleep."
Lucy nodded. "That's probably best. You can sleep late. I don't think Professor Masaryk will be able to see you for a day or two. He's so busy right now."
"Just as well." I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me. "It's been so hectic in the last few days…"
"Of course," Lucy said, kissing me on the cheek. "That's why you're being so cranky. You're just tired. Good night. Peace and love!."
"Peace and love!" I replied as the elevator door closed. I staggered down the hallway to my room, opened the door, fumbled with my clothes and dropped them on the carpet in an untidy heap. I barely managed to brush my teeth before crawling into bed. Nice bed. Nice warm comforter. Everything in the whole wide world was very nice. Peace and love...
Later in the night, a white shape came noiselessly into my room and slid into bed with me, a warm soft presence that felt like a dream. I was just awake enough to enjoy myself with my lovely succubus for the rest of the night. What we did probably wasn't nice but it sure was fun.
