Carl ran into a park and found an empty bench beside a bronze faun with cymbals.
Let your hair down, chicken. You’ll feel better.” The tourist was leaning over him, his camera swinging in Carl’s face like a great dangling tit.
“Fuck off you!”
Carl saw something ignoble and hideous reflected back in the queen’s spayed animal brown eyes.
Oh! I wouldn’t be calling any names if I were you, ‘chicken. You’re hooked too. I saw you coming out of The Institute.”
What do you mean by that?” Carl demanded.
Oh nothing. Nothing at all.”



Well, Carl,” the doctor began smiling and keeping his eyes on a level with Carl’s mouth. “I have some good news for you.” He picked up a slip of blue paper off the desk and went through an elaborate pantomime of focussing his eyes on it. “Your uh test . . . the
Robinson-Kleiberg floculation test.. .”
“I thought it was a Blomberg-Stanlouski test.”
The doctor tittered. “Oh dear no. . . . You are getting ahead of me young man. You might have misunderstood. The Blomberg-Stanlouski, weeell that’s a different the sort of test altogether. I do hope . . . not necessary. . . .”
He tittered again: “But as I was saving before I was so charmingly interrupted . . . by my hurumph learned young colleague. Your KS seems to be . . .” He held the slip at arm’s length. “. . . completely uh negative. So perhaps we won’t be troubling you any further. And
so .. .” He folded the slip carefully into a file. He leafed through the file. Finally he stopped and frowned and