Page 144 (1/2)

“The other Beast?”

“Yes,” he sighed, his head touching the side of the confessional “Go get him You didn’t think there was just me, did you?”

“Another—?”

“Your friend The one whose bust I destroyed when I saw that he had caught my face, yes The one whose cities I trautted … H

e’s running the studio!”

“That … that’s not possible!”

“Idiot! Fooled us Fooled you When he sahat I had done to his beasts, his cities, the clay bust, he wenthorror The terrible mask—”

“Mask—” My mouth jerked

I had guessed but refused the guess I saw the film face of the Beast on Crumley’s wall Not a clay bust animated, frame by frame, but—Roy, made up to resemble destruction’s father, chaos’s child, annihilation’s true son

Roy on fil out the Beast

“Your friend,” gasped the ain “God, what an act The voice: h the wall behind Manny’s desk and—”

“Got me rehired,” I heard myself say “Got himself rehired!?”

“Yes! How rich! Give him the Oscar!”

My hand raked the grille

“How did he—”