by Pati Nagle
I glanced in the open door of her apartment as I went past. Leila stood just inside, peering out at me.
“Seeya, kiddo,” I said, flicking my tail in farewell.
“Goodnight, cher,” she called as Elsa came stomping back.
I kept running until I heard Elsa’s door slide shut, then slowed to a jog. Not until I had reached the lifts did I pause to repair the insult to my coat done by Elsa’s squirt bottle.
A lift arrived and I got in, pondering about Albert Delgado. All I knew about him was that he was a dock worker and had gone missing after his last shift. Devin was right, he probably hadn’t just decided to spend a whole day sleeping in the bushes. I’ve been known to enjoy that, but it isn’t a normal pastime for humans.
“Rotunda,” I said to the lift. I’d cruise HQ and see if they’d learned anything. The chief would undoubtedly question Albert as soon as medical checked him out OK. Maybe they had already learned where he’d been.
Ted, a hopper who was the newest member of the team, was at the front desk. “Hi, Leon,” he said in a thin, nasal voice.
All the security guys call me by my real name, at Devin’s insistence. It’s not that I mind “Tux” so much, it’s a matter of respect. Most of the guys think I’m Devin’s pet, and because I hang around HQ a fair amount they treat me like a team mascot.
I walked over to the desk, tail high, ready for a handout. Ted, whose real name was unpronounceable or we’d have used it, reached into the bag from which he was snacking and tossed a small, green, lumpy round thing my way. It rolled to a stop in front of me and sniffed it. I had no clue what it was, except that it didn’t smell like anything I wanted to eat.
I batted it around the floor for a minute, just to show my appreciation of the gesture, then knocked it down the corridor and chased after it. When I was out of Ted’s sight, I dropped to a walk and went on, leaving the green thing to its fate.
The conference room door was open and half the security team was packed in there. The other half were probably out combing the station for the guy who was still missing.
Bedraggled but now awake, Albert Delgado sat at the foot of the table, a coffee cup in front of him. Chief Wright stood next to him, still in the natty gray clingsuit he’d worn to Elsa’s.
“But how did you get there?” he demanded.
Albert shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The chief paced around a bit. “All right, let’s take it from the top. Where did you go after you left work?”
Albert frowned as if trying to recall, then his face went strangely slack and his eyes got glassy. “I don’t remember.”
I shot a look at Devin, who was slouched in one of the cushy chairs around the table. He hadn’t noticed me, so I slipped under the table and went over to him, rubbing against his legs to let him know I was there. I sat down by his feet, listening. Something was bothering me about old Albert here. His tone of voice seemed sincere, but something was off.
I hopped onto Devin’s lap. Apart from letting out a soft grunt, he ignored me. I put on my cute kitty look and watched Albert while the chief questioned him. He gave no sign of holding back. Seemed genuinely confused about his disappearance, as confused as we were.
“What happened at the end of your shift?” the chief asked.
“I clocked out and headed for a drink with a couple of buddies.”
The chief pounced on that. “Which buddies? Who?”
Albert frowned in concentration, then got the glassy look again. “I don’t remember.”
“What do you mean, you don’t remember?”
Albert just shook his head. The chief leaned his fists on the conference table and got in his face.
“Where did you go for drinks?”
Albert went blank again. “I don’t remember.”
Suddenly I realized it was the blank look that was bugging me, and why. I’d seen it before.
In Pulsar. On the faces of the guys watching the Firefly.
My hackles rose and my claws dug into Devin’s thigh. It was involuntary. So was Devin’s yell. I hastily jumped off his lap, ducking under the table again.
“Dammit, Leon!”
I poked my head out and caught his eye. He frowned at me, rubbing his leg. I flicked my ears twice, my way of telling him that I’d like a word in private. He glared at me, then heaved himself out of the chair.
“‘Scuse me, Chief. Leon and I need to have a talk.”
Before I could move, Devin swooped down and grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. I let out a yelp, and saw the chief’s eyes bug out as Devin carried me out of the conference room.
In the hall he dropped me to my feet. I was mad, almost mad enough to leave him to his own devices, but I knew he needed to hear what I had to say. Silently fuming, I trotted beside him down to the office he shares with Sheila and Ralph. Devin shut the door and slumped into his chair.
“Was that necessary?” I demanded, glaring at him.
“Payback. You drew blood.”
Devin rubbed his thigh again, then let out a weary sigh. He was starting to get dark circles under his eyes. I looked away and shook myself. I’d have to straighten out my ruff later.
“Sorry,” I said. “Couldn’t help myself. I realized something important.”
“Better be good.”
I explained about the blank look on Albert and the guys at Pulsar. Devin leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Leon, I hate to break it to you, but that kind of zone-out happens to humans a lot. Haven’t you ever seen it on some shmoe sitting and watching the feeds?”
I shook my head. “This is different, Dev. It’s more … intense, somehow.”
There was a quiet knock on the door, then it slid open. Chief Wright poked his head in, looking a bit anxious.
“Everything all right?”
He addressed Devin, but he was looking at me. I shot Devin a look, then sat down and licked the back of my paw.
“Yeah,” Devin said. “Come on in, Chief.”
He stepped in and closed the door. “I just wanted to be sure there wasn’t a misunderstanding,” the chief said, shooting me another nervous glance.
He had reason to be anxious. I was unique on the team, and I hadn’t come cheap.
“It’s OK,” I told him. “I just needed to get Devin’s attention, was all.” Before Devin could butt in, I explained my theory to the chief.
“I guess it’s possible,” he said doubtfully.
He didn’t believe me either. I was frustrated. There had to be a way to convince them. I looked around for inspiration. One of the guys had left his holopad on, displaying the alert for Skanecutter, the second missing person. He’d looked familiar when I first saw the alert. I went over to get a better look.
“Chief, I’ve got news for you,” I said, staring at the guy’s smiling image as it slowly rotated.
“What?” said the chief, stepping closer.
“Mr. Skanecutter here? I saw him earlier tonight. In Pulsar.”
“We questioned the staff at Pulsar,” Devin said. “They hadn’t seen him.”
“Have you seen the crowds in there for that show?” I said. “The place is a zoo. Easy to miss one guy in that mob.”
“When’s the Firefly’s next show?” the chief demanded.
“Oh-four-hundred,” said Devin. I could practically hear his shoulders sag.
“Right,” said the chief. “We’ll stake it out. Report back here at oh-three-thirty.”
He headed for the door, but paused before opening it and looked back at me. “Thanks for your help, Leon.”
He flashed a half-smile and went out. I looked at Devin, who was slumped in his chair again, staring at the holo.
“Cheer up,” I said. “We’ve got time for a snack and a nap.”
For the snack, Devin headed for the rotunda. I silently cheered as I followed him to Ling-Ling’s.
Ling2 was there, which was slightly unusual. Normally she came to work toward the end of third shift
and worked through first, taking second shift off for her personal time. Lately she was spending more and more time over at the Imperial Gardens, which she’d inherited, learning the ropes from the staff there.
“Hi,” Devin said, leaning across the red-edged black counter to grin at her.
She was dressed in gold satin tunic and pants with green piping and those knotty fastenings up one shoulder. She glanced at Devin with a smile, but it was kind of a harried one.
“Got any spring rolls tonight?” Devin asked.
Ling2 shook her head. “Ran out of the wrappers. This morning’s shipment didn’t come in, so we’re out of a lot of stuff,” she said, looking annoyed. “Could make you some lo mein?”
“No, I need something portable,” Devin said.
I walked across his feet. That’s what they have the little paper cartons for, I yelled at him silently.
Unfortunately, psychic communication is not our strong suit. Devin didn’t order anything from Ling-Ling’s, though he chatted Ling2 up a little, sympathizing about the missed shipment.
“Hope tomorrow’s comes in OK,” he said.
“Me, too,” said Ling2, “or I’m going to have to go through Galactic Express, and they charge an arm and a leg! I’ll have to raise my prices.”
Devin told her goodnight and moved on to the Mex-Sector stand. They were out of stuff too. He settled for a taco-wrap from Mex Sector and ate it as we walked back to the apartment. I snarfed up the crumbs as they hit the deck. At home, he turned to me.
“What were you doing in Pulsar, anyway?”
“Just cruising. Butch wanted to go.”
Devin tossed the crumpled paper from his wrap at the wastebasket in the corner. It bounced off the trash already piled in there. I went over and proceeded to lick the taco grease and stray bits of cheese off the paper.
“You sure it was Skanecutter you saw in there?”
“Positive.”
“Hm.”
Devin lay back on his bed, fully clothed. Taking my nap suggestion seriously, he was soon sawing logs. I finished cleaning up the taco paper, then pulled apart the laundry pile, spreading it into a comfy bed for my own nap.
At oh-three-fifteen we were back at Pulsar. The bouncer this shift was a mungo.
While Devin was flashing his security badge and talking his way out of the cover charge, I slipped between him and the mungo and went on into the club. It was already starting to fill up. Chief Wright was there, at a ringside table toward the back, a good place from which to observe the crowd coming in. I made my way over to him and jumped in his lap.
“Oh—er, hi Leon.”
He gave me a few hesitant pats, the way a first-time uncle pets his newborn niece or nephew. I got a kick out of making him uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to jeopardize my bonus so I jumped down again and curled up by his feet.
Dev wandered up and sat down long enough for the chief to buy him a beer. A dancer came over to wiggle in front of them for a while. She was a hopper, her green skin set off by a fluorescent yellow bikini with red spots.
Why hopper girls wear bikinis when they don’t have any tits is beyond me. Maybe it’s just convention, or maybe club rules. Anyway, she was not much of a distraction for Devin and the chief. They were busy talking strategy and throwing suspicious glances at the customers coming in. Finally the hopper figured out there were no tips forthcoming, and wriggled off to bug somebody else.
As the club filled up, the music picked up tempo and volume. Ralph and Sheila came in. Sheila was looking cranky, but Ralph looked pretty cheery. This was his regular shift, and he was the type who would enjoy Pulsar. The chief sent them and Devin off to different parts of the club, with instructions to keep an eye on the patrons.
Yeah, right. That was going to work. Devin was already distracted. A tanned blonde dancer with legs up to her ears had zoned in on him, and he had a silly grin plastered on his face.
I was going to have to keep a sharp lookout because the rest of the team, except maybe Sheila, were not going to be at their best in here. Deciding to fortify myself before Firefly came out, I ducked under the tables to run crawfish patrol. Found a few fries and some onion rings that had been stepped on, took a pass and kept looking, then scored a whole crawfish someone had dropped. I gobbled it down and felt ready to take on the job.
When the show finally started I came out and cruised the club, watching the clientele. As before, there were those who hooted and hollered, and those who just stared. I paid closer attention to the latter. Some, including Devin, were just watching quietly, but others had the slack-jawed, glassy-eyed look that I’d seen on Albert in the conference room.
I sat down next to Devin and put a paw on his knee, carefully poking a single claw through his nullsuit, just enough to get his attention. He shot me a dirty look.
“What?”
I jumped on his lap and stuck my head next to his ear. With Firefly’s music throbbing, no else one would hear me.
“See that guy in the blue clingsuit? And the one by the stage with long hair?”
“Yeah,” Devin said.
“Remind you of anything?”
Devin was silent for a minute, then he absently ran a hand down my back. “Yeah, I see what you mean. But it could just be the music and the flashing lights.”
I glanced at Firefly, who was going like a zipball game by now. “Exactly,” I said. “It’s sending some of these guys into hypnotic trance.”
I kept scanning the crowd, and noticed that not only were the glassy-eyed ones without exception male, they were also all human. Granted, humans probably made up over half the crowd, but there were plenty of others in there, and I didn’t spot a one of them who was zoning like some of the homo sapiens crew. Well, hard to tell with hoppers, but still.
I leaned toward Devin’s ear again. “Get a load of the chief.”
“Hey, quit it,” he said, brushing me away. “That tickles.”
I backed off and watched him look over at Chief Wright. Seemed our fearless leader was susceptible to hypnosis. He was staring slack-jawed at the Firefly, and looked like he wouldn’t have noticed a bomb going off in his French fries.
“So, what?” Devin said, his gaze drifting back to the Firefly, “they go into a trance and wander under the bushes to sleep it off? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Nope, it doesn’t,” I agreed.
There had to be more going on. I kept watching the crowd, trying to memorize the faces of all the zoned-out guys. If one of them turned up missing, my theory would be confirmed.
Firefly wound her show up to a high-speed, spectacular climax. She struck a final pose, then went dark as the music suddenly ceased. The crowd roared. I peered at the stage, able to see her dim shape hurrying straight offstage.
She wasn’t pulling guys out of the crowd, then. She zoned them out, but something else happened to them after that.
The lights came up and regular dancers took the stage again as the normal music started up. Devin got up, caught Sheila’s eye, and strolled over to her. I followed, and Stan joined us.
“Anyone see anything unusual?” Devin asked.
They shook their heads. Then Sheila piped up.
“Hey, where’s the chief?”
Devin’s head turned toward the chief’s table and he frowned. Being on the floor, I couldn’t see squat. The team started en masse toward where the chief had been sitting, and I got a bad feeling in my gut. Could be the crawfish, but I didn’t think so. I took a shortcut under the tables.
A half-finished beer sat in front of the chief’s empty chair. I jumped up on the chair and sniffed around, smelled the chief’s cologne and the general funk of sweaty nightclub customers, but nothing else.
Devin snagged a waitress and Stan went to check the john. No luck. The mungo bouncer hadn’t seen him leave, either.
Devin made a call to HQ. Absent the chief, he took charge of the team and led us through a curtained doorway to the backstage. We were greeted by a high-pitched,
feminine squeal.
“Security!” Devin said loudly, brandishing his ID. “Everyone stay where you are!”
We were in a narrow, dark and stuffy hallway. Two dancers flattened themselves against the wall and stared with frightened eyes. Devin threw a door open, evoking more squeals from inside. Lights and mirrors—looked like a dressing room. Devin nodded to Sheila to check it out, then sent Stan down the hall.
Another door, another dressing room. This one was empty, though the lights were on. Devin was about to turn away when I heard a vague sound from the back of the room. I growled and started toward it. Devin stayed in the doorway, frowning, while I prowled around the wall toward the closet.
“Anyone here?” he called.
A sudden rustling was followed by a naked woman half-stumbling out of the closet. She was petite, with short brown hair and a face that would have been pretty if it didn’t look so weary. Took me a second to realize I was looking at the Firefly.
“Oh, geez,” Devin said, turning away. “Ah—you want to put on a robe or something?”
Funny, he hadn’t been embarrassed to stare at her when she was on the stage. Humans have wacko hangups.
Firefly took a robe down off a hook and put it on, then sat down at the counter. Vases of flowers were crammed to either side of a large mirror, dozens of notes pasted on the wall around it. Firefly gazed dully at Devin, her face tired and sad.
“Ah—um—” Devin said.
I shot him a look intended to suggest that he pull himself together. Stan joined us and with a shake of his head informed us that the chief hadn’t been behind farther down the hall.
“Er, ma’am?” Devin said. “By any chance, have you seen Chief of Security Wright?”
The Firefly’s eyebrows twitched. “Who?”
Something was tickling my nose. I glanced toward Firefly’s closet, then started easing my way over there while Devin continued to ask questions. There it was again—a hint of the chief’s cologne!
I let out a yowl and ran into the closet, sniffing all around the floor. The smell of cologne was strongest at the back. I started scrabbling at the baseboard, looking for an opening. Devin came in and thumped on the wall, which gave a hollow sound. After some fumbling he got it to swing open.
