The Legionnaire seemed to collapse in on herself, answering only with a feeble shake of her head and a shrug.
The captain abandoned his efforts, realizing that to push further would be, at best, a cruelty.
"Well, I'll be off now," he said, heading for the door. "I'll only be a few minutes if anyone calls in."
Rose relaxed a bit as he retreated, acknowledging his departure with nothing more than a vigorous nod.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, Phule puffed out his cheeks in a long exhale as if he had been holding his breath. He realized, with no small surprise, that dealing with someone as shy as Rose had the effect of making him nervous. The bashful Legionnaire's painful bashfulness made him immensely self-conscious, and throughout the "conversation" he had found himself trying to figure out what he was saying or doing to make her so uncomfortable. All in all, he came out of it feeling like he was the one who shot Bambi's mother.
Lost in thought, Phule decided to take the stairs down to the vending-machine floor instead of waiting for an elevator.
It was easy to see why the lieutenants-and probably anyone else she had been assigned to-thought of her as a problem case. He would try to talk to Rose again, sometime when he wasn't so tired. Maybe if he was more alert he would be able to find a way to put her at her ease. As it was, it was hard to relax around someone who constantly reacted to you as if you were some kind of a monster.
As if on cue, a nightmare rose off the steps at his feet, stopping his descent-and his heart-in midstride.
"Wha... Oh! Jeez, Tusk-anini. You scared the... I didn't see you there."
"Not apologize, Captain. Many scared by me when expected. You not expect see me so scared."
The big Voltron shook his head, though Phule noted he rotated it around his nose like a dog instead of pivoting his chin back and forth on his neck as a human would. There was no denying this nonhuman Legionnaire cut a formidable, if not terrifying, figure under the best of circumstances, much less when encountered unexpectedly in a stairwell late at night.
Nearly seven feet tall with a massive, barrel chest, Tusk-anini towered over all but the tallest of humans, and even those had to look up to meet his black, marblelike eyes. His brown-olive skin more closely resembled an animal hide than human flesh in color and texture, particularly when complemented by substantial amounts of dull-black hair. Crowning the entire effect was a misshapen face only a mother-or, one assumes, another Voltron-could love. It was elongated and protruded into an unmistakable snout, and his two tusklike canines jutted from his lower jaw on either side of his nose, presumably the feature the Legionnaire took his name from.
"Incidentally I'm sorry we haven't spoken before," the commander said, still struggling to regain his composure.
"Again, no apologize, Captain. Know you busy. Do good job, too. Will help any way you want."
Phule only listened to the Voltron's response with half an ear, the rest of his attention being claimed by the stack of books in the stairwell.
"What were you doing here, anyway, Tusk-anini? Reading?"
The Legionnaire nodded, his head moving in exaggerated up-and-down motions like a horse fighting a bit.
"I no need much sleep, so read lots. Came here so roommate not have to sleep with light on in room."
Phule had squatted down to examine the books and looked up with new speculation in his eyes.
"These are pretty heavy reading. How come you brought so many?"
"Will read whole stack tonight."
"The whole stack?"
Again the Voltron tossed his head in agreement.
"Read fast. Humans have much knowledge. Joined Legion learn human knowledge. Want be teacher after duty tour over."
The commander hastily revised his estimation of the Voltron. It was so easy to assume that because he was big and spoke broken English, his intelligence was somewhat lower than that of the average Legionnaire. Once one was thinking about it, though, the fact that the Voltron had mastered an alien tongue well enough to speak it, however clumsily, rather than resort to the translators used by the Sinthians, said something about his mental ability... and his pride! It was obviously a matter of some pride to Tusk-anini that he could speak a human tongue at all, even if he did it so crudely he gave the impression of being stupid.
"Why don't you use the duty room of my penthouse?" Phule said, his mind racing over this new discovery. "You'd be more comfortable, and I think the light's a lot better for reading."
"Thank you, Captain. Most gen... erous."
The Voltron stumbled a bit over the word, but began to gather up his books.
"Let me give you a hand there. You know, Tusk-anini, if you were serious about helping-above and beyond the call of duty, that is-there is something you might be able to give me a hand on."
"What that?"
"I get lots of communications from Headquarters: copies of reports and modifications to the rules and regulations. Most of it is pointless paper shuffling, but I end up having to read it all to find the few items that do affect us, especially the changes in regulations. Now, if you could read through those for me, and pull the really important items for me to look at...
The beep of Phule's wrist communicator interrupted his explanation. For a long moment he debated ignoring it to continue his conversation with Tusk-anini. Then he remembered that Rose would have to deal with it if he didn't, and reached for the activator button.
"You got Com Central here," came a voice from the unit's speaker. "What desperate situation can we alleviate for you this evening?"
The commander froze with his sign-on unuttered on his lips. Apparently whoever was calling in was also thrown by the response, as there was a pregnant pause before a reply came on the air.
"Is... is Captain Jester there?"
That voice was clearly recognizable to the commander as Brandy's, which meant the other voice had to be...
"The Great White Father, or Big Daddy, as he's sometimes known, is not available at the moment, Top. He's done tippee-toed off to feed his face, thereby giving lie to the belief that the man never eats or goes to the bathroom."
"Who... who is this?" the voice of the company's first sergeant demanded.
"You got Rose at this end, Super Sarge... that's Rose as in Rose-alie? I am faithfully and alertly monitoring our dazzling communications network this evening, as is my sworn duty according to the duty roster you signed and posted this very morning."
"That Rose?" Tusk-anini rumbled, but Phule waved him into silence as he listened for the next exchange.
"Rose?" Brandy's surprise was clear in her voice. "I don't... Well, tell the captain when he gets back that I want to talk to him."
"Hold on a second there, Brandy-Dandy. Before I tell him any such thing, perhaps you might want to reconsider your request? The Main Man is tryin' to keep going on potato chips and two hours sleep, and I was kinda hoping he'd have a chance to fall on his face and die for a couple hours when he got back-that is, if there isn't an emergency hangnail or something to keep him up all night. You don't suppose that just maybe this busy old universe of ours could stagger along without him until morning, do you?"
"Rose, have you been drinking?"
Phule fought back a snicker and kept listening.
"Not a drop that wasn't as pure as a maiden's virtue, O' Ramrod of the Masses... and don't you go trying to change the subject. Is it absolutely, positively cross-your-heart-and-kiss-your-elbow necessary that you talk to the Cheez Whiz tonight, or can I maybe leave him a love note for when he wakes up?"
"Well, Rose-alie. Since you put it that way, I suppose it can wait until the dawn's early light. I can work around it for now."
"Whoa back there, Brandy-wine. You know, you've been keeping the pedal to the metal yourself there lately. Now, realizing that you have to be in top sergeant shape to kick some sense into our merry band when the officers aren't looking, don't you think it might be a good idea to catch a few winks yourself while the tide's out?"