time for one pretext or another. My opinion, they just decided there wasn't any money to be made in space anymore, so they cut back. So now I have to scratch for work.' But after every little datum he supplied about himself he paused inquiringly to give Dannerman a chance to supply a little quid for his quo. He was fascinated by Dannerman's interest in the little theater in Brooklyn. ('Coney Island! Wow! That's really what you call Off-Off-Off Broadway, isn't it? I didn't think anybody went to Coney Island anymore!') He was searching about Dannerman's years in Europe-Dannerman was glad he'd been thorough about covering his tracks with the Mad King Ludwigs-and sympathetic about the fact that, although Dannerman and Pat Adcock had inherited the same amount from Uncle Cubby, Pat had actually got hers and Dannerman's had shrunk to invisibility through inflation before he collected it.
But of the repair mission to Starlab he would say nothing at all. 'The thing is, Dan,' he said, all good-natured candor, 'I'm in line to fly that bird. Provided I don't screw up with your cousin and, well, she just doesn't want it talked about yet.' He glanced at his watch. 'Well, this's been great, but we better get back to the office. I hear Pat's got a job for you to do this afternoon.'
When Dannerman was summoned to his cousin's office, though, the first thing she said wasn't about the errand. It was 'What the hell did you promise the Germans?'
He shrugged, less interested in the question than in the fact that Mick Jarvas was standing there beside her desk, looking truculent again. 'They asked for information about the Starlab repair mission.'
'They can't have it.'
'All right,' he said agreeably, 'but can I give them a reason?'
'No. Well, hell, I guess you have to say something. Tell them we've got a problem, you don't know exactly what it is, but it'll all be cleared up in a week or so.'
It seemed to Dannerman that his cousin had a lot in common with the colonel. He ventured, 'Meaning when you get back from your Starlab trip?'
She glared at him. 'Who told you I was going to Starlab? Just do your job,' she ordered. 'No, wait a minute, I didn't mean for you to go. I need something delivered to the Florida embassy. You're going to take it, and it's important. I'm sending Mick along with you, just in case.'
Jarvas stirred. 'I can handle it all by myself,' he muttered.
She ignored him. To Dannerman she said, 'Give me your belly bag.' When he unsnapped it and handed it over, puzzled, she dumped the entire contents on her desk.
'Hey!' he said. There was personal stuff there, his cash card, his ID, the key cards for the office and the condo.
'Shut up,' she said. She unlocked a drawer of her desk and took out a small, soft-sided leather satchel. She stuffed it into his belly bag; it fit, but just barely. She thought for a moment, then put his ID back.
'You can pick up the rest of your stuff when you get back, Dan. What I want you to do, take this bag to the Floridian embassy and give the bag to General Martin Delasquez personally. Nobody else, understand? No matter what they say. It's to be hand-delivered, and he's expecting it. Wait for him while he checks it out, and when he says it's okay you can come back here. Mick, give him his gun.'
'Right, Pa-Dr. Adcock,' the bodyguard rumbled, pulling the weapon out of his pocket. 'Come on, Dannerman.'
In the elevator he was fidgety, glaring at Dannerman. Just before they reached the ground floor he asked, 'Do you know what this is about?'
'Don't have a clue.'
'Neither do I. Listen. Maybe you're not as big a prick as I thought you were, but my orders are that that package stays in your belly bag until you hand it over to the guy it's meant for. No peeking. I don't want to have any trouble with you.'
'You won't,' Dannerman said, meaning it. He didn't want to cross Jarvas just when the man was being nearly human. In any case, he was hoping that the subway ride would give him a chance to engage Jarvas in conversation.
But that didn't happen. Jarvas was working at the business of being a bodyguard. He stayed close to Dannerman, keeping anyone else from touching him even on the subway, his good hand always near his own weapon, and he wasn't talkative. When the train speeded up to pass what some terrorist had done to the Fourteenth Street station, all lightless and covered in dark green radiation-proof foam, Jarvas crossed himself awkwardly with the arm that was in a cast. Dannerman considered mentioning to him, as a conversation opener, that he really had nothing to worry about, the residue from the terrorists' nuclear satchel bomb was no more dangerous than the general atmospheric levels-as long as you didn't linger there, of course. But as soon as he opened his mouth Jarvas gave him a warning scowl.
He closed his mouth again, and followed Jarvas meekly as they got out at Chambers Street.
The Floridians had their place on Embassy Row, just like the rich foreign countries. Theirs wasn't one of the big-money establishments-it wasn't anything like the Swedish embassy on the corner, twelve stories high and immaculately kept, and of course not a patch on the embassy of the United Koreas across the street. But then Florida was stretching a point to have an 'embassy' at all, since it wasn't really an independent nation. At least not in name.
The Floridians took themselves as seriously as one, though. Both Jarvas and Dannerman had to turn over their guns even before they got to the scanners in the vestibule, and then Dannerman had to turn over his ankle gun as well. Jarvas gave him a scowl for that; at least, Dannerman thought with resignation, the scanners hadn't picked up the bomb-bugger. Then they had to sit for half an hour in a sort of barred quarantine chamber before a guard was available to escort them to the office of Major General Martin Delasquez Moreno. Jarvas sat like a stone, a scowl on his face. After a moment Dannerman decided to improve the time; he checked his mail, wiped it all, then accessed a news broadcast. But he had time only for a couple of items before the door guard leaned in and ordered no electronics.
Then they just sat.
When the armed guard came for Dannerman he pointed to Jarvas and said, 'You stay.'
'Hey! I've got my job-'
'Your job is stay here. Come on, you.'
Leaving the fuming Jarvas behind was a surprise for Dannerman, but not altogether unwelcome. It occurred to him that, without Jarvas by his side, it was a chance to sneak a quick look into the leather bag; but it really wasn't, with the armed embassy guard watching every move.
When he got to the office of General Delasquez the man seemed surprisingly young-probably a relative of somebody high in Florida's government, Dannerman supposed. He was wearing the full dress uniform of a general of the Florida State Air Guard, and when he shooed the guard out with an offhand gesture the man was meek to obey. Delasquez closed the door. 'Hand it over,' he ordered; and then, when he had the leather bag in his hands, 'Turn around. This is not your concern.'
But by then what was in the satchel was no longer much of, secret to Dannerman, because he'd felt its contents as he took it out of his belly bag. It felt like a few dozen pebbles. It wasn't pebbles, though. When the general had finished his inspection and had locked the bag in a drawer and told him he could turn around again, he forgot to put the jeweler's loupe away, but by then Dannerman had figured out that they were gemstones, almost certainly the diamonds Jerry Dixler had mentioned Pat was buying.
'Wait,' the general ordered, and keyed on his phone. Dannerman couldn't see the picture, but he knew his cousin's voice when she answered. 'Your application has been received and is satisfactory, Dr. Adcock,' the general said. 'The documents will be processed immediately.' And then, to Dannerman, 'You can go.'
With their errand completed, Jarvas loosened up a little. He listened almost politely as Dannerman answered his questions about what had happened in the general's office, then actually managed a grin. 'Got that done, anyway; your cousin'll be happy about that.' Then he stopped short in front of the Swedish embassy, eyeing the curbside vendors. 'Hey, Dannerman, how about some candy? I've got kind of a sweet tooth.'
'Not me, but go ahead.' As he watched Jarvas haggling with the woman at the pushcart he wondered how Jarvas got away with his drug habit; the candy addiction was a tip-off, and so was the fact of his mood swings. In some ways Cousin Pat didn't seem to be as sharp as he'd thought. But it was good that Jarvas was mellower;
