The corporal stepped over and opened it for him. Bhelabher paused in the doorway to look back at Dar. “You haven’t heard the last of me, young man—be sure of it.”
“But you have heard the last of us,” Dar said as the door closed behind the last aide, “and your credentials.”
“Right here.” Sam started piling wafers on the countertop.
“You’re really good at that, y’ know?” Dar yanked off his beret. “I didn’t know BOA trained pickpockets.”
“Just a difference in emphasis,” Sam said. “Besides, I wouldn’t have known what to do without the Reverend. He knew right where to look in each bag.”
“Yeah—thanks, Reverend.” Dar started peeling out of his tunic. “We couldn’t have brought it off without you.”
“The Power favored me,” Haldane said modestly. “I wish you luck, Dar Mandra. This will be, at most, an inconvenience to him.”
“Well, I’m hoping for more—but you’re right; it’s only a delaying tactic. And he might not be delayed very long in getting Shacklar out here.” He pulled on his coverall and turned to Sam. “Better change. We’ve gotta get out of here, fast.”
4
The glass chattered on the table, and Dar looked up. “I could swear I heard a dull boom.”
“Ayuh.” Cholly tilted his head to the side. “I’d almost think I had, too. Queer; ain’t it?”
“Right on the borderline between hearing and feeling.” Sam turned to Dar “Either it was very soft, or very far away.”
“Soldiers don’t go in for target practice much.” Dar turned to Cholly. “Anybody sell some Wolmen a cannon?”
“Only the parts—and they haven’t got the button yet.”
“Must’ve been a natural phenomenon.” Dar tossed back the rest of his beer and set the glass down. “How long do you think it’ll take ‘em to realize we, ah, ‘confiscated’ all the copies of their credentials?”
“About as long as it takes them to find a hotel room—and I expect yer friend the sergeant’ll lead ‘em the long way ‘round the barn.”
“If I know him, he’ll take ‘em by way of the back pasture—which is where Bhelabher belongs, anyway. The man’s got all the tact of a barbell.” Dar turned to Sam. “How’d a blusterer like that get promoted to governor, anyway?”
“They couldn’t fire him,” she explained. “He had too much seniority. So they had to kick him up to where he couldn’t do any harm—to his bosses, anyway.”
“No harm? What was he beforehand, a general?”
“Chief filing clerk.” Sam shrugged. “Sorry, Dar, but that’s the way they see it. Gossip said he’d caused three rebellions by putting the right document in the wrong place.”
“Perfect.” Dar held out his glass for a refill. “Not even as important as a pile of molecudots.”
“To them, you are a molecudot.”
The door bonged, and a man in a very ornate jumpsuit came in, grinning from ear to ear.
“You’re off early today, Corve.” Cholly reached for a bottle and glass.
“Bit of a frumus today.” Corve adjusted himself to a barstool and accepted the glass. “Boss decided to give everybody the day off and let the new guests shift fer themselves.”
“That flock of civvies?” Dar managed mild interest. “Where they in from, anyway?”
“Terra, ‘seems.” Corve took a gulp or two. “Their boss claims he’s the new governor.”
“New governor?” Dar frowned. “What for? We’ve got Shacklar!”
“And we’d best find a way to keep him, from the looks of this one.”
“Now, Corve, that’s not fer you to say,” Cholly reproved him. “You just holds the door at the hotel.”
“Ayuh, but I’m not on duty now.” Corve turned to Dar. “It’s name’s Bhelabher, an’ its brain’s in its mouth.”
“Just what we need to consolidate Wolman relations,” Dar said dryly. “Is he the new gov?”
“Dunno; he can’t find his papers.” Corve grinned wolfishly. “Hadn’t but scarcely found his rooms when he let out a roar like a ship trying to land without jets; I swear he shook the whole hotel.”
Dar looked up at Cholly. “Kind of an explosion, huh? Or a cannon? The chemical kind, I mean.”
“Heard him all the way down here, eh? Well, can’t say as I’m surprised. I thought of luggage-bombs, myself. But no, he came storming back into the lobby with his whole flock at his heels. ‘There’s thieves in this hotel!’ he cries. ‘They’ve rifled all our luggage!’ Well, I don’t doubt the boss was thinking of rifling him—but no, he kept his face polite, and says, ‘There are no guests in this hotel today but you and yours; and as for me and mine, why, I stayed here at the desk, the maid’s having her batteries charged, and the staff’s there by the door, ready to hold it for you.’ Well, Bhelabher, he started up some deal of nonsense about how dumb it is to have a hotel with so small a staff to blame things on, but his top aide … face kinda like a rat …”
“Fox,” Dar murmured.
“… an’ he—uh … say again?”
“He coughed.” Sam kicked Dar in the ankle. “Please go on, sir.”
“Yeah, well, the rat-faced one, he says, ‘Those people at the Customs Office, Honorable …’ And Honorable, he hits his forehead with the heel of his hand—must do that a lot, I notice he’s a little flat-headed—and says, ‘How obvious! No wonder I overlooked it! Why, of course there’d be corruption—riddled with it! Bureaucratic piracy, without a doubt!’ And he starts for the door, thundering, ‘But how could they have known where to find the documents?’ And the rat-faced one, he says, ‘Read our minds, no doubt,’ and all the rest of them, they set to wailing about how unfair it was, to have mind readers all about, and how’s a decent bureaucrat going to make a living if all his little secrets are known, and what evil people mind readers are. And Honorable, he says, ‘We must see the General immediately, and have those Customs people questioned,’ and I pulled the door and they swirled on out, Bhelabher and his whole covey right behind him. And I closed the door and like to fell over, laughing so hard I thought I’d shake myself apart.”
“No wonder.” Dar managed to chuckle himself. “Customs office? On a prison planet?”
“And mind readers! Hoo!” Corve chortled. “Such a deal of nonsense! And these’re educated?”
“Wull, knowing facts can’t cure stupidity,” Cholly mused, “and Shacklar’s anything but stupid. I’d love to see what happens when they find him.”
The door bonged, and a private stepped in, chuckling.
“I think we’re about to find out.” Dar turned to the new arrival. “Something go right, Cosca?”
“All depends on which end you were on.” Cosca pulled himself up to a barstool. “Me, I was on the outside, listening in.”
“Don’t executives anywhere know better than to leave their intercoms open?” Sam demanded.
“Just the other way around,” Dar corrected. “Sometimes they know better than to turn them off. What wasn’t private, Cosca?”
“A complaint, chiefly.” Cosca accepted his beet “Or maybe a challenge.”
“I can guess the chief who made the complaint,” Corve grinned. “Who made the challenge?”
“Same as the complainer—this Terran bigwig, Beelubber …”
“Bhelabher,” Dar and Corve both corrected.
“Who’s telling this story, anyway? All right, Bhelabher. Honorable high huckster from Terra—he says. He comes sailing in without so much as a by-your-leave, roars, ‘Where’s the governor?’ and goes slamming into Shacklar’s office afore a one of us could say a word. Matter of fact, we couldn’t even hear ourselves, his gang was making so much noise, chattering about how telepaths was undermining the foundations of society…”