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hasn't mentioned it to me. Really, Sir Kenneth, you have no idea how difficult all this is." Malone swallowed with difficulty. "_Where_ is he, then?" he said. "Can you tell me that, at least? His location?" Her Majesty looked positively desolated with sadness. "I can't be sure," she said. "I really can't be exactly sure just where he is. He does keep moving around, I know that. But you have to remember that he doesn't want me to find him. He certainly doesn't want to be found by the FBI ... would you?" "Your Majesty," Malone said, "I _am_ the FBI." "Yes," the Queen said, "but suppose you weren't? He's doing his best to hide himself, even from me. It's sort of a game he's playing." "A game!" Her Majesty looked contrite. "Believe me, Sir Kenneth, the minute I know exactly where he is, I'll tell you. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die--which I can't, of course, being immortal." Nevertheless, she made an X-mark over her left breast. "All right?" "All right," Malone said, out of sheer necessity. "O.K. But don't waste any time telling me. Do it right away. We've _got_ to find that spy and isolate him somehow." "Please don't worry yourself, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said. "Your Queen is doing everything she can." "I know that, Your Majesty," Malone said. "I'm sure of it." Privately, he wondered just how much even she could do. Then he realized--for perhaps the ten-thousandth time--that there was no such thing as wondering privately any more. "That's quite right, Sir Kenneth," the Queen said sweetly. "And it's about time you got used to it." "What's going on?" Boyd said. "More reading minds back there?" "That's right, Sir Thomas," the Queen said. "I've about gotten used to it," Boyd said almost cheerfully. "Pretty soon they'll come and take me away, but I don't mind at all." He whipped the car around a bend in the road savagely. "Pretty soon they'll put me with the other sane people and let the bats inherit the world. But I don't mind at all." "Sir Thomas!" Her Majesty said in shocked tones. "Please," Boyd said with a deceptive calmness. "Just Mr. Boyd. Not even Lieutenant Boyd, or Sergeant Boyd. Just Mr. Boyd. Or, if you prefer, Tom." "Sir Thomas," Her Majesty said, "I really can't understand this sudden--" "Then don't understand it," Boyd said. "All I know is everybody's nuts, and I'm sick and tired of it." A pall of silence fell over the company. "Look, Tom," Malone began a
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