“Uh, oh, yes, sorry, I said that already. Yes. Um, now, about those pesky turbine blades twirling around to keep the reactor core, um, well, cool, and then this object comes hurtling in, sucked in by the air intake, and striking the blades. Catastrophic results would occur. The object might glance off the blades and impact the plasma bottle, causing ...”
The door opened again. Xris continued talking during this second interruption, fighting gamely to retain his hold on his audience. He had no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t matter, because no one was listening to him. The colonel had again turned to see who was entering late and this time his stare attracted the attention of everyone in the room.
An excessively tall and extremely thin humanoid, whose skin had assumed the same gray shade as his uniform, stood just inside the door. Tycho spotted Quong, pretended not to see him, took a seat at the aisle. The people next to him immediately moved a seat or two away. Not because they were prejudiced against aliens, but because Tycho wore the gray uniform of the branch of the military known as Unconventional Warfare. The insignia on his shirt identified him as a SyOps with BCW—Biological and Chemical Warfare.
BCWs were notoriously unpopular, being generally suspected of harboring all sorts of deadly viruses.
Tycho folded his long body into the chair, which was not made for “chameleons,” and sat, arms and legs akimbo, his knees practically up to his shoulders.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Colonel Strebbins demanded of his aide in a voice that was meant to be low but—due to the excellent acoustics—carried throughout the auditorium.
“Possibly something to do with contamination ... the crash site ...” his aide was heard to respond.
Xris plunged loudly forward. “And, um, then there is always the problem of indigenous life acting as foreign objects being ingested into the intake of a spaceplane. One small sakira lizard sleeping in the engine cowling could cause ...”
Tess was gazing at him. She wasn’t smiling; she looked ... bemused.
Xris was feeling bemused himself. Fortunately, due to unintentionally cutting out three paragraphs, he had arrived at the halfway point. The end in sight, he was racing on to the finish when he heard several members of the audience start to snicker. A faint scent, as of orange blossoms, wafted through the air.
Xris jerked his head up. The door at the rear remained shut. No one had walked in. But the audience was now chuckling. People pointed to something happening on the stage behind Xris.
Colonel Strebbins, eyes bulging, gaped.
Xris turned to look over his shoulder.
Raoul was mincing across the stage on tiptoe. Seeing himself noticed, he halted, waved a delicate hand. “Don’t mind me.”
“Who the devil are you?” Strebbins demanded.
“Ah, Colonel, darling.” Raoul advanced to the front of the stage. He was dressed in a uniform that, by its tailored cut and elegant material, was obviously not Army issue. His hat sat at a jaunty and strictly nonregulation angle on his head. His salute, accompanied by a wiggle of his hips, brought down the house.
“Corporal de Beausoleil. Morale Troops. Here for next week’s show. Just thought I’d sneak a peek at the stage. I had no idea anyone was in here. Silly me! Carry on, Captain,” he said to Xris. “So sorry to interrupt. Bye.”
With a kiss of his hand, he left the stage, to the accompaniment of whistles and cheers. Colonel Strebbins’s aide rose to his feet and turned to face the crowd, which suddenly fell silent.
Xris sought refuge in another glass of water. He had seen, in the wings, the Little One peering at him from beneath the fedora. Xris opened his mouth when the door at the rear of the auditorium banged open.
At this point, Xris wouldn’t have been surprised if His Majesty the King had entered. The sight of Harry Luck, wearing a Naval pilot’s flight suit, his helmet dangling by a strap from his hand, his flight suit torn and ripped, a trickle of blood running down his face, didn’t phase Xris in the least.
Harry dashed in, saw Xris, saw the audience—every one of whom had turned at the sound of the door banging to stare at this new arrival.
Harry’s jaw sagged; his mouth fell open. He flushed a deep and unhealthy shade of red. Dr. Quong was on his feet, taking charge of the situation. Grasping Harry firmly by the arm, the doctor led the big man to a seat, shoved him into it.
“ Even the Navy showed up to hear this speech,” Strebbins said, awed.
The audience was having a hard time settling back down. Judging by their grins, this was the most fun they’d experienced in a year. Under cover of the whispers, coughs, and muffled laughter, Dr. Quong frowned, leaned over to Harry, said something on the order of “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
Harry, looking aggrieved, responded. Xris knew exactly what the big man was saying.
“But I heard Xris was in trouble ...”
Xris pitched out two pages of notes, found the ending, delivered it.
“And, in conclusion, I just want to apologize for the fact that, due to the lack of time, I am unable to show you the exhibits I brought with me. I leave you with this important reminder: FOD, or Foreign Object Damage, cannot only kill you, it can ruin an otherwise clean maintenance record!”
The audience, in a good humor, gave Xris a rousing round of applause. Most even remained in their chairs a few extra seconds, obviously hoping for more.
The colonel ascended the stage, congratulated Xris on a fine job, shook his hand. “Sorry about the interruptions,” the colonel said. “I had no idea this topic would prove so popular!”
“Me either, sir,” Xris said with heartfelt sincerity.
He tried to catch Quong’s eye, but the Doc was deep in a low-voiced conversation with Harry. Tycho was on his feet, moving to the back of the auditorium. Xris had no idea where Raoul and the Little One had gone, though obviously not far. He could still smell orange blossoms.
“We’ll have you back next year,” the colonel promised.
Turning on his heel, he walked up the aisle, headed for the door. The other officers filed out behind him. The enlisted personnel were on their feet, waiting their turn. Xris cast a quick look about for Tess, but couldn’t find her.
The colonel had just reached the back of the auditorium when the door opened yet again.
Jamil walked in.
Xris didn’t know whether to kiss him or slug him.
“Colonel Jatanski!” Colonel Strebbins was enthusiastic. “You just missed it. Captain Kergonan did a fine job. A fine job. I guess the court-martial proceedings were pretty rough, huh? You don’t look as if you’d slept much. You can tell me all about it at dinner.”
Jamil mumbled something unintelligible. The colonel took a close look at the new arrivals. Dr. Quong and Tycho both saluted smartly. Harry saluted, but only after Quong elbowed him in the ribs.
The colonel made a short speech of welcome, walked out.
Jamil, carrying a metal briefcase, shoved his way through the departing audience, continued down the aisle. Handsome, suave, urbane, Jamil invariably looked as if he’d just stepped through the doors of a modeling agency. Now he looked as if he’d just stepped through the gates of hell. His handsome features were soft and blurred from fatigue, his eyes were bloodshot. His uniform was rumpled and sweat-stained. He didn’t see Tycho, though he walked right past him; didn’t notice Quong and Harry.
Xris waited, tense and nervous, beside the podium. Whatever had gone wrong had obviously gone wrong big-time. The auditorium was emptying out. Quong, Harry, and Tycho lingered behind, watching for a sign from Xris, who—not knowing what was going on—decided to leave them where they were, for the present.
He would have given anything for a twist now, was wondering if he might not be able to slip one into his mouth when he felt something cold and hard press into the small of his back.
“This is a .10 decawatt lasgun,” said a voice.
Xris went rigid.
“Continue to act naturally, Captain
,” the voice went on. “Keep your hands where I can see them. You and your friends are going to join me for a nice, quiet little chat. But first you’re going to answer one question.”
Tess jabbed Xris painfully in the back with the gun. “What the hell have you done with the robot?”
Chapter 22
The past is but the beginning of a beginning and all that has been is but the twilight of the dawn.
H. G, Wells, The Discovery of the Future
“All right,” said Xris, keeping his hands in plain sight, “I think it ‘s about time someone tells me just what the hell is going on!”
“Isn’t that a coincidence,” Tess said coolly, making certain he continued to feel l the pressure of the gun in his back. “I was thinking the same thing. We’ll wait right for those men of yours to come up to be introduced Oh, and don’t worry about your pretty boy and his funny little friend. I have them tied up at the back oft the stage.”
“What men? What pretty boy?” Xris asked innocently.
“Nice try, Captain. I’ve got files on all of you.” The last of the base personnel were leaving the auditorium. Xris motioned. Harry, Quong, and Tycho started to walk down the aisle toward the stage.
Jamil arrived first. He looked at Tess, standing behind and to one side of Xris, and put on a charming smile, only slightly frayed around the edges. “Captain Strauss, good to see you again. If you would excuse us, Captain, I’d like to talk to Captain Kergonan—”
“Forget it,” Xris said laconically. “She’s got files on all of us. Not to mention a gun in my back.”
Jamil dropped the smile. He eyed Tess. “She does, huh?”
“Yes,” Xris said, shrugging. “Though I don’t really think she’d use it.”
Jamil grunted. “Yeah, well, think again. She’s not regular Army. She’s NI. Naval Intel. You’re one of Dixter’s people, aren’t you, Strauss?”
“That’s right,” Tess returned crisply. “The first move you make I don’t like and I’ll shoot. Nothing personal, Xris,” she added, her voice softening. “I had a lot of fun last night.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Xris said bitterly. “For someone who was set up, I had a great time!”
Tess shifted her attention to Jamil. “I take it you just came back from your ‘briefing’ on board the King James.”
Jamil nodded, wary. “My orders are to grab the robot and be on the first spaceplane out. Take it straight to Sakuta.”
“And, of course, that’s what you were planning to do,” Tess said, her lip curling.
“Certainly!” Jamil returned, scowling.
“Sure you were. You called for all this backup to help you carry the ‘bot to the staff car. I think you’re trying to double-cross us. I think you’re going to take off with the ‘bot yourselves. Make a tidy profit putting it up on the open market.”
“Look, lady,” Jamil growled, “after what I found out about that ‘bot, the only thing I want to do is fling it out the air lock! As for calling in the team, how could I? I’ve been on that mother of a command cruiser with two trigger-happy Marines breathing down my neck the entire time.”
“And I’d like to remind everyone that I still don’t know what’s going on!” Xris said savagely. “Why would I call in the team?”
“Because you want the robot,” Tess returned.
“I don’t even like the damn robot! It’s got eyes. It gives me the creeps. Look,” Xris said, “there’s a real easy way to solve this.” He glanced over his shoulder at Tess. “You know everyone from our files, so that will save long introductions. Tycho, Harry Luck, Dr. Bill Quong.
“Doc,’’ Xris continued, as the rest of the team gathered around him, “this woman, who is currently holding a gun to my hack, would like to know who told you to come here and why.”
Dr. Quong raised an eyebrow. “I am with the Army Medical Corp. I was told to report—”
Jamil shook his head. “On the level, Doc. She has files.”
“Oh. I see.” Dr. Quong made Tess a formal bow. “I was told to report to the military base on Pandor by a colleague of mine, Raoul de Beausoleil.”
“Raoul called me, too, Xris,” Harry offered. “He said you were in some kind of trouble. I crashed my plane getting here to rescue you.”
“You crashed the plane,” Xris repeated. He knew the answer, but he asked the question anyway. “Why?”
“I had to, Xris. They weren’t going to let me land.”
Xris sighed, glanced at Tycho. “What about you?”
“I spoke to Raoul. He stated that there was an emergency and we were to meet here on the Army base on Pandor.”
“Now, I wonder why Raoul—” Xris realized suddenly that they were minus one team member. “Darlene! Something’s happened to Darlene!” Forgetting about the gun, he started to turn, only to feel the barrel gouge him painfully in the ribs. He held still, but he was rapidly losing patience. “Look, Captain Strauss, the only way to clear this up is to talk to Raoul.”
Tess hesitated, then said, “Come on. Back of the stage. The four of you”—she motioned to Quong, Harry, Jamil, and Tycho—”first. Remember that I have the gun.”
Tycho gave Xris a look that said as plainly as if he’d spoken through his translator. There are five of us. We can take her out.
Xris shook his head emphatically. The agents for NI— Naval Intelligence—were highly trained and dedicated to their work. Tess meant what she said; she’d kill him without hesitation. And then, of course, she’d be the next to die. If everyone kept cool, they might all get out of this alive.
“Start walking,” Tess ordered. “And you still haven’t answered my question about the robot.”
“It’s someplace safe,” Xris said.
“Where?” Tess demanded.
Xris shrugged. “After all, Captain, how the hell do I know I can trust you’? I don’t suppose you have any identification on you. Or maybe you could kiss me again. Then I’ll tell you all my secrets.”
“Just keep walking, Captain.”
Tess herded them all to the rear of the stage. Parting the back curtains, they found Raoul seated in chair, his wrists and ankles locked in disrupters, a gag in his mouth. The Little One crouched on the floor beside his friend. Disrupters were too big to fit on the small wrists and ankles. His hands and feet were tied with what appeared to be nylon stockings.
Dr. Quong, on Tess’s command, removed the gag from Raoul’s mouth, the disrupters from his hands and feet. Quong untied the Little One.
Raoul drew in a deep breath, let it out in an indignant explosion. He pointed a quivering finger at Tess. “She wiped off my lipstick!”
“She’s read your file,” Xris said grimly.
“Oh.” Raoul thought this over, was considerably relieved. “I’m glad it’s that. I thought perhaps she was making some sort of fashion statement. Which, considering her choice of—”
“Can it!” Xris said irritably. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s holding a gun on me!”
“Oh, I noticed,” Raoul said, taking a mirror from his handbag and attempting to assess the damage. “I thought perhaps you were enjoying it.”
“Where’s Darlene?” Xris asked nervously.
Raoul glanced sidelong at Tess. His eyelashes fluttered. “She decided to take a pleasure cruise. I believe she’s heading for Moana.”
“You let her go? By herself?” Xris was furious.
Raoul looked up at Xris. The Loti’s eyes widened. “I am sorry, Xris Cyborg. I did not realize that Darlene was my prisoner. She was not having fun on Adonia and so I suggested that she try a pleasure cruise. I would have accompanied her, but at the time I was somewhat occupied.”
“She’s all right?” Xris asked, tensely.
“She’s all right,” Raoul said, his voice quiet.
Xris relaxed. He wasn’t being told the whole story, but he didn’t dare ask for more, not with an NI agent listening in. Tess was suspicious as it was.
“Who is this Darlene?” Tess asked
.
“What’s the matter?” Xris retorted. “Don’t you have a file on her, too?”
“I’m asking the questions.” Tess smiled at Raoul. “Who told you to come to this base, Adonian?”
Raoul gave her a charming smile. “I guess that would be me.”
“You told yourself.”
“I suppose I must have. I told everyone else. That meant I was next in line. May I touch up my lipstick?”
Tess shook her head.
Raoul sighed bleakly. Looking at himself in the mirror, he shuddered and snapped the compact shut.
“All right,” Tess continued, “why did you tell yourself to assemble the team here?”
“We thought that perhaps Xris Cyborg might be in trouble.” Raoul glanced at the Little One, who nodded. “Considering that Professor Sakuta was not what he claimed to be. And he was so perfectly beautiful, too.” Raoul sighed again. “Beauty is as beauty does, however.”
“What’s this? How could he be someone else?” Xris asked, puzzled. “The Little One read Sakuta’s mind. The Little One told me—”
“Wait a minute,” Tess said. “As you say, I have files. The Little One. He’s supposedly the telepath?”
“He is a telepath, Captain,” Xris said.
“It comes with age to certain members of his race,” Dr. Quong added didactically. “I am writing a paper on the subject, which I plan to present at the next Conference of Surgeons. If you would be interested in reading it, I could make a copy available—”
“Yes, I would be,” Tess said softly. She frowned, stared intently at the Little One, who stared just as intently back at her.
“Anyone can claim to be a telepath,” she said finally. “Let’s see how good he is. He couldn’t have heard us talking out front. What organization do I work for?”
The Little One tilted his head back, to see her better from beneath the brim of the fedora. Then, making a snorting sound, he rubbed his hands together and, folding his short arms across his chest, he turned his back on her.
Raoul nodded in approval. “The Little One says that he doesn’t need to prove his talents to anyone, particularly a woman with little or no fashion sense. That last bit,” Raoul added unnecessarily, “was mine.”
Robot Blues Page 20
