He didn’t linger any longer than protocol absolutely demanded, but as he was heading for a cart a tiny Centaurian male scuttled through the crowd, calling, his name. “Large Male Giyt! This is I here, principal husband of Mrs. Brownbenttalon, you recall me? Be waiting briefly, please!”
“I’m in kind of a hurry—”
“Yes, surely. Deeply regret interrupting, but esteemed wife ask me to inform you. You wish find Earth female Patroosh, she say, having overhear you talk with Large Male Hagbarth person, correct? She say good idea go see New Zealand Large Male. Thank you. Now must return instantly for completing of welcoming high-ranking co-species persons.”
It took a lot of knocking and ringing to get anyone to answer the New Zealander’s door, and when the man showed up, half dressed, he looked seriously annoyed.. Even more so when Giyt announced that he wanted to see Dr. Patroosh. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “The mayor? Oh, right, the bloke that wanted to bring weapons into Tupelo. What the hell did you want weapons for?”
“It wasn’t my idea. Can we talk about it some other time? I just need to see Dr. Patroosh.”
The New Zealander looked suddenly suspicious. “What’ve you been hearing about her and me?”
“Nothing. I just need to talk to her.”
The New Zealander studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, why don’t you come on in? I think she’s probably out of bed by now.”
So she was, but she was still wearing a wrapper over a frilly nightgown. It suited her, with her hair down; in fact, she looked quite pretty, and Giyt could see why doubling up was not a hardship for the New Zealander.
She did not, however, seem pleased to see Giyt. “Yes?” she said frostily. And she remained frosty while Giyt told her his shadowy suspicions about Hoak Hagbarth.
The New Zealander was listening intently. When Giyt finished he said, “What’ve I always told you, Emelia? It was a mistake to let Tupelo be an all-American project.”
Patroosh gave him a tolerant look. “But that’s only temporary, Jemmy. America’s where Ex-Earth has been getting all its funding, so naturally America has a special interest. But they say they’re definitely going to open it up to the rest of the world real soon now.”
The New Zealander gave her a skeptical look. “I think we ought to listen to what this man has to say.”
“Ah, Jemmy,” she said crossly, “don’t you think we’ve got enough on our plate? We’ve got to bring up the question of exchanging ambassadors again, and that’s going to be a long, hard fight.”
“But it’s important,” Giyt put in.
She shook her head. “Listen, Giyt,” she began, and then hesitated. “Well,” she said at last, “I guess you ought to know. Hagbarth’s pretty down on you. Says he misjudged you. Doesn’t think you’re the right kind of person for the colony. And he has some stories about your wife—”
Giyt’s expression hardened. “I know what he says about my wife.”
“I don’t really care what he says about your wife. But it makes a problem. If the Ex-Earth rep and the mayor are feuding, it complicates things here.”
“But if the Ex-Earth rep is committing a crime—”
“Depends on what kind of crime it is, Giyt,” she said kindly. “The UN can’t do anything about embezzlement out here, can it?”
“I don’t know that’s what it is,” he said obstinately. “It could be anything. It could be something that damages relations with the other planets.”
“Yes, it could,” she agreed, “but we don’t know that, do we? As far as I can see, we don’t know anything at all.” She meditated for a moment, then sighed. “Giyt, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. When I’m back on Earth I’ll ask Interpol a few discreet questions. If they know anything, I’ll try to follow up.”
Giyt, torn between knowing he ought to thank her, wanting more action: “When will that be?”
“A while. The ambassador-exchange thing is going to take time. Maybe a couple of weeks, even. But that’s the best I can do. If you wanted me to do anything here, you’d have to have more evidence. Now will you please leave us alone so I can get dressed?”
More evidence? All right, Giyt thought, I’ll give her more evidence. And when he got back to his home he asked Rina, “Do you think you’d be all right by yourself if I went to the Pole for a day or two?”
XXIV
Welcome, welcome, and welcome to our wonderful visitors from good old Mother Earth! And a special welcome to our dear old friend. Dr. Emilia Patroosh, who we all fondly remember from her visit here just a few months ago when she came to investigate the problems with the new generator system planned for Energy Island. And I’ve got some really good news for everybody, because tonight’s the night! Our own dear Hoak and Olse Hagbarth are having a cookout at their home and all six of our honored guests have graciously consented to be present to meet you. Everyone’s invited! And I don’t Have to tell you that a grand time will be had by all when we partake of that famous Olse Hagbarth hospitality! See you there!
The decision to go to the Pole was made. Implementing the decision was harder. The first thing Giyt tried was polling the other mayors about revising the passenger list for the polar rocket.
He didn’t get very far. The mayors weren’t hostile, exactly, but they were clearly unwilling to get into a dispute between Earth humans. Even Mrs. Brownbenttalon was no help. “Could gladly give to you Centaurian seats if available, Large Male Giyt,” she said, “but fact is, got no Centaurians going this trip or not next trip either, too. Wait. I maybe try Kalkaboos.”
What she tried was to call the Kalkaboo High Champion on her own to see if he could be got to turn a seat loose. That didn’t work, either. Downcast, she reported: “New Kalkaboo High Champion no better than old Kalkaboo High Champion. Talk much, do little. Say always permanently willing helping out good friend and assassin of predecessor who has made amends therefore, Earth-human Giyt, but not in this particular case. Say friend Giyt surely aware delegation of high persons from home planet presently present here and maybe would not be approving.”
“Well, he could ask them,” Giyt said.
“Certainly could. I spoke so also. He say not advisable, could cause problem. What sort problem he mean,” she added, “is maybe home planet bosses might be annoy, could think stinky new Kalkaboo High Champion not as good as stinky old one. Stupid, you think? Sure. But what you going do? Is how Kalkaboos are, mostly. Now let me try Delts.”
The Delts weren’t helpful, either. When Giyt had to report failure to his wife she was warmly sympathetic. “Look on the bright side, hon. Here are all these people that aren’t even human, and they do their best to help you—some of them, anyway.”
“A very few of them,” he grumbled. “And what the Delt said was that he’d do it in a minute, but the Slugs would have a fit because they’re naturally scum. I hate the way these people talk about each other.”
“Why? It’s just talk, Shammy.”
“It’s not the kind of talk I’m used to,” he insisted.
She sighed. “You’ve led a sheltered life, hon. When I was a kid in Newark, Mom was always making little jokes about the drunken Irish and the dumb Poles, and we all talked mean about the Protestants, and we and the Protestants never had a good word to say about the Afros or the Asians. Didn’t mean much. We kids all played together, and our parents all got together for the Fourth of July parade and the Christmas baskets for the poor. The eeties just talk that way, hon. They get along. They’ve been doing it for hundreds of years, you know, and never any big fights. Which is a lot more,” she added ruefully, “than you can say about any of our countries back on Earth,”