'Sure thing, sweet buns,' he said amiably. 'Hi, Danny. How's it going, China boy?'
Pat looked bewilderedly at Dannerman as he was closing the door behind them. 'What happened?'
Dannerman shrugged. 'My guess, he must've got his hands on some extra-powerful dope. You never know what they're going to be selling you on the street.'
The bewildered expression changed to anger. 'Crap! Mick promised me he doesn't do drugs anymore. I couldn't have a doper for a bodyguard.'
'Oh? Well, why don't we just ask him to take his shirt off?'
'Aw, Dan,' Jarvas said, suddenly pouting. 'I thought you and me were friends.'
Pat looked from one to the other, then made her decision. 'Do what he says, Mick.'
'I don't have to. I got pers'nal privacy rights, don't I?'
She turned to Dannerman. 'Take it off him, Dan.'
Dannerman looked at Jimmy Lin, who spread his hands; evidently personal combat wasn't one of his specialties. It wasn't something Dannerman would have sought with somebody like Mick Jarvas, either; but the former kick-boxer was giggling. Apart from good-naturedly pushing at Dannerman's hands he hardly resisted as Dannerman pulled the tabs of his shirt loose, zip, and slid it down over his back.
On Jarvas's rib cage, just under his right armpit, there was one of Hilda's inconspicuous, flesh-colored patches.
Jimmy Lin chuckled. 'Well, what do you know? He really is mellowed out.'
'Oh, shit,' said Pat, too disappointed to be furious. 'What am I going to do now? He can't escort me in that condition.'
Jarvas gave her a happy grin. 'Course I can, hon. Little joy never hurt me. Just makes my reflexes sharper and all.'
He might as well not have been in the room; Pat, biting her lip, didn't even look at him. 'I was counting on him,' she told the air.
It was the cue Dannerman had been waiting for, but Jimmy Lin forestalled him. 'If you need a new bodyguard, Pat,' he offered, 'what's the matter with your cousin? He's handy enough with his fists, you tell me.'
'Danny? For a bodyguard!' Pat Adcock stared at him, then at Dannerman. 'I guess you're big enough,' she said thoughtfully. 'What kind of gun do you carry?'
'Twenty-shot spray with quick-change clips. Same as always.'
'Are you sure you know how to use it? Oh, right, you were rotsy in college, weren't you?'
'Protsy, actually.'
She sighed and made up her mind. 'I don't really have much of a choice, do I? All right, Dan-Dan, I guess you're about due for a promotion. How would you like be an astronaut for a While?'
Not much work got done in the observatory that afternoon, either. At least not by Pat Adcock and her spacefarers. As soon as they'd sent Jarvas, sniveling, back to his home in the company of one of the larger postdocs, Pat declared herself through for the day. 'Take me home, Dan. I've got to pack. You better take an overnight bag, too.'
'Sure thing, Pat. I'm new at this, though. What sort of stuff do you pack to go into space?'
'How do I know? I've never done it before either. I guess they'll give us all the space stuff we need at the Cape, but we'll be gone five days, according to the mission plan, so take whatever personal things you think you'll need. And, oh, yes, don't forget your gun.'
'You're expecting trouble?'
She didn't answer. Just, 'Don't forget, I want you back at six A.M. to get us to the airport.'
Six o'clock, Dannerman thought dismally on the ride up to Pat's Yorktown condo. That meant getting up not much after four; it was a long way from Rita's Riverside Drive place to York-town. But at least he could make it an early night.
As soon as he had reported his success to Colonel Hilda Morrisey he went looking for his landlady. 'I'm taking your advice and getting out of town for a while, Rita,' he told her.
'Hey, great! Where are you going?'
'Florida,' he said, and stopped her lecture on how nasty the Floridians were since they got their own government by taking out his payment machine. 'I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, so I'd better pay a week or so in advance. I don't want you throwing my stuff out into the street.'
'Oh, Dan! I wouldn't do that,' she protested, 'not even if you were away for even a month.'
'It won't be that long,' he assured her. 'I'm sure of that.'
CHAPTER NINE
Dan
The captain's voice woke Dannerman as the plane was making its approach to the Jose Marti airport outside the Cape. He hadn't intended to sleep. He hadn't realized he actually was sleeping until he woke up, saw the red light on the seat back before him to show that the airbag had just been armed and saw Pat Adcock stirring beside him. 'Look there,' she said, yawning as she gazed out the window. 'That's our Clipper.' There it was, gleaming ceramic white, forty meters tall, with work trucks and people busy around it.
So it wasn't a dream. It was real. That was the ship that was going to lift Dannerman and the others right off the solid planet they had been born to, and all those childish fantasies would become fact.
'Are you scared?' his cousin asked him, giving him a searching look.
'Oh, no. Well, not really scared. Are you?'
'Certainly not,' she said. 'Going into space isn't what worries me. Uncle Cubby brainwashed me pretty well, you know; it was his dream, only he never could pass the physical to make it on his own, and I guess he infected me. That's not what's bothering me.'
He looked at her with new interest. 'But something else is?'
'Well, yes.' She squirmed around to look back at Jimmy Lin and Rosaleen Artzybachova, in their own seats a few rows back. 'For one thing, I don't know if I can trust Lin,' she said moodily as she straightened again. 'Delasquez, either. That's why I want you along, Dan. Keep an eye on those guys while we're up there.'
'But they're the pilots you picked,' he said reasonably.
She shrugged. 'I had to take what I could get. Just be careful about them, okay?' She peered up and down the length of the plane. 'Do you suppose it's too late to go to the can?' she asked.
It was. The stews were cruising the aisle, checking seat belts and picking up empty glasses. He said consolingly, 'We'll be on the ground in a moment.'
'Yes? And then what?'
He said, surprised, 'Then there'll be a chance to get to the ladies' room right away.'
She gave him a pursed-lips look. 'That's right, you've never been in Florida before, have you?'
He hadn't understood what Pat had meant by that, but as soon as they were off the plane it became clear. The passengers were not permitted to step off the plane and go freely about their business. The passengers were immediately herded into long lines for customs inspection- well, it wasn't called 'customs,' exactly, since Florida wasn't really an exactly independent country, however determinedly they insisted on their own laws and practices. The processing was just.is thorough, though, and the first step was that one of the agents collected everybody's carry weapons. Dannerman hated to give up his twenty-shot, but all the more seasoned Florida travelers seemed to take it as a matter of course. The agent tagged each gun and gave the owner a claim check-'So you can redeem it, senor, when you leave our beautiful Free State.' Then another set of agents searched methodically through everyone's bags and pockets. For a moment Dannerman thought they might even insist on a body-cavity search as well, but it didn't come to that. It was bad enough, though; the inspector gasped in outrage when she patted him down and found his ankle weapon.
She held the gun in her hand and gave him a severe look. 'This is contraband weapon,' she announced. 'It is
