by Mike Resnick
“Well, that's it,” said Flint. He leaned over and kissed her on a leathery cheek. “Good luck, Gloria."
“Gloria was a dull little stumblebum that nobody wanted,” she corrected him, still smiling. “I'm Butterfly Delight."
“I guess you finally are,” admitted Flint."
* * *
Chapter 18
Well, at least she is happy,” said Mr. Ahasuerus, sitting behind his desk and sipping from his ever-present cup of coffee. Flint was sprawled on his partner's couch, while Tojo, unable to make himself comfortable on any of the furnishings, stood by the doorway.
“She's more than happy,” replied Flint. “She's a goddamned star. She's going to make us almost as much money as the Dancer."
“Who would have thought it?” mused Mr. Ahasuerus. “Our Gloria!"
“She may be ours,” said Flint, “but she's not Gloria. Not any longer."
They fell silent for a moment while Flint lit a cigarette, coughed once, and made a face.
“Are you ever going to teach those idiot robots how to make one of these things?"
“They do their best,” said the blue man.
“I notice they didn't have any trouble synthesizing decent coffee for you,” muttered Flint.
“Well,” sighed Mr. Ahasuerus, “at least we're back to problems that we're used to. I'll reprogram the galley robots tomorrow morning."
“See that you do,” said Flint. Suddenly he grinned. “It does beat the hell out of identity crises, doesn't it?"
“Indeed it does,” replied the blue man, exposing his teeth in his equivalent of a smile. “I assume everybody here knows who he is?"
“Sure,” said Tojo. “I'm the person Thaddeus yells at."
“And I'm the guy who yells at the dwarf,” responded Flint easily. He turned to Mr. Ahasuerus. “What about you?"
“I'm the one who puts up with all of this and wonders why,” replied the blue man with a weariness that didn't quite mask his delight.
* * *
Visit www.Fictionwise.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
