Rair Brashnikov's cabled shoulders deflated. "It is 555-9460," he murmured.
The Caucasian dialed and listened a moment. He put the earpiece to the side of Rair's featureless head, not quite getting the spot where his ears were, but it was close enough for the ringing of the other line to come through.
Randal Rumpp's querulous, dispirited voice answered.
"Who is it?"
"Ho ho ho," said Rair Brashnikov hollowly.
"You! What happened? The TV says the Rumpp Regis is back to normal, and my Tower is sinking into the ground. How do I stop it?"
"How am I to know? I am thief, not rocket scientist."
"Do better than that!" warned the Caucasion named Remo.
"Who is that?" Rumpp wanted to know.
"New friend," Brashnikov explained.
"So what do I do?" Rumpp pressed.
"Try calling Moscow. I give you number."
Rumpp grabbed a pad and paper. "Shoot."
The long-distance operator was very helpful. She got through to Moscow in under an hour. Normally it took two, she explained. On a good day.
The voice that picked up on the other end at first denied any knowledge of the vibration suit.
Then Randal Rumpp said, "I'm Randal T. Rumpp, and I see a lot of investment opportunities in your country."
"Ah. Vibration suit. Why did you not say so? I will put you through to Vibration Suit ministry. We are only KGB liquidation unit."
"You're killers?"
"It is not that kind of liquidation we are doing."
"Oh."
The line clicked and hissed and hummed, and Randal Rumpp watched the ever-changing TV screen to keep from being bored.
Finally a low female voice said, "Shchit. "
Rumpp said, "I guess some words are universal."
"Who is speaking, please?"
"Randal Rumpp, famous billionaire."
"The one whose building, it is sinking?"
"The very same. And it's all the fault of your crummy vibration suit. It got into my Tower electrical system and screwed it up somehow."
"Vibration suit?"
"Don't be coy. Your guy was just captured."
"Which guy?"
"I don't know. I didn't catch his name. But I do know who I'm gonna sue if I don't get some satisfaction."
"USSR did not invent suit," the woman said crisply. "You should take this up with manufacturer."
"Who's that?"
"Nishitsu Corporation. Osaka."
"The Japs? How did you guys get hold of the technology?"
"KGB steal it."
"Oh," said Randal Rumpp, hanging up.
The long-distance operator put him through to the Osaka research and development plant of the Nishitsu Corporation in Japan.
Rumpp identified himself, and asked to speak with the department that designed the suit.
At first, the thick voice at Nishitsu denied any knowledge of the invention.
Then Randal Rumpp said, "The Russians say they stole it from you."
The man at the other end said, "Ah," and asked a simple question. "You possess device now?"
"Could be," Rumpp said cagily. "And I might be willing to do a trade."
"Prease continue."
"First, I want my skyscraper to stop sinking."
"How does bakemono suit have anything to do with that?"
"Bakemono?"
"Means gobrin."
"Spell it for me."