gone- was a waste of time and energy. For one thing, he was likely to make enough noise to warn anyone worried about avoiding pursuit. On the plus side, he now knew that Nightingale and Beeker were in the near vicinity. Perhaps they were even staying at the same hotel! He was likely to get much quicker results by asking the right questions. He turned and headed back to the hotel;
His first stop was the front desk, where he pushed the call button for the manager. As he waited, the gentle sounds of ancient folk music drifted out from the dining area: a harp, a flute, and some kind of soft percussion instrument. Phule wasn’t sure whether the sounds were live or recorded, although given the Hix’s World passion for rustic authenticity, live was a fair bet.
After a moment, the desk clerk appeared. This time the woman’s face broke into an eager-to-please smile, a predictable effect of his having flashed his Dilithium Express card at check-in. “Yes, sir, how can I assist you?” she chirped.
“I just saw an old family friend’s wife out the back window,” Phule said, in a casual tone of voice. “But she was gone by the time I got out there to look for her. I had no idea she and her husband were visiting Hix’s World, or I’d have looked them up to ask them out for dinner. Could you tell me which room Mr. Beeker is staying in?”
“Beeker, Beeker,” said the woman, knitting her brows. “Are you certain he’s staying with us? I don’t recall the name…”
“Older fellow, tends to dress a bit conservatively,” said Phule. “His wife’s a younger woman…” Phule gave as complete a description of the fugitives as he could, right up to what Nightingale had been wearing when he saw her out the window. But by the time he finished, the manager was shaking her head.
“That doesn’t sound like anyone who’s staying with us,” she said. “Our gardens
“I guess that’s possible,” said Phule, rubbing his chin. “Is there someplace else they might be staying? Someplace close enough that one of them might be walking in your gardens?”
“Our gardens are a widely known attraction,” said the woman, spreading her hands apart as if in welcome. “They so regularly won top prizes in the Floribunda Fete that the former owners withdrew them permanently to give others a chance… But as for where this person might be staying nearby… Well, there are several private homes that take in tourists. Your friends might be at any of them.”
Phule nodded. “Fine, can you give me a list?”
“It’s not something we usually track,” said the woman. “Any list would be out of date rather quickly. Besides, your friends could well be staying with someone whom they know socially, rather than one of the boardinghouses.”
“That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” said Phule, leaning his elbow on the counter. “Just tell me any that you do know, and I’ll see if Beeker’s staying with them. If not, I’ll just have to catch up with the old rascal back home and tell him he missed a free dinner on Hix’s World.”
“Best of luck finding him, sir,” said the woman. “And if you do turn up Mr. Beeker and his wife, I think you’ll find our dining room a very pleasant place to entertain them.”
“Thanks-I’ll remember that,” said Phule. “Now-you were going to give me a list of places?”
The woman smiled and gave him the list. A few moments later Phule was placing the first of his calls…
The sign on the wall behind the hotel desk read, no dis-clavery. Sushi stared at it, trying to figure out whether it was a misspelling of some more familiar word, but nothing seemed to fit. He shrugged; if he didn’t know what it was, he decided he wasn’t likely to be doing it. He reached out and touched the bell on the desk.
After a delay just long enough to be annoying, a sour-faced woman appeared at the desk. “What ‘n the world you want, stranger?” she sniffed.
“Do you have a room for two?” asked Sushi. “We’re probably going to be here at least two nights, maybe more if business is good.”
“I’ll take two,” said Sushi. “Can we extend that if we find out we need it longer?”
“Maybe,” said the woman, with a shrug. “This here’s a busy town, and there’s more people than rooms sometimes. You want to hold it longer, you give me up-front money. Nobody makes a better offer, you get to keep the room.”
“Any refund if somebody makes a better offer?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions, stranger,” said the woman. “We don’t take kindly to Nosy Neds hereabouts.”
“Two nights, then,” said Sushi, firmly. “And my name’s not Ned.”
“You know, there’s a law ‘gainst giving wrong names to hotels,” said the woman, with a suspicious stare.
“That’s triff, lady, but maybe you noticed we didn’t give you no names, yet,” said Do-Wop. He squinted at the sign behind the counter. “Does that sign mean you’ve run out of disclavery? I got pretty good connections-I bet I could get you a batch, real cheap.”
“Disclavery’s against the law on
“Well, that won’t matter with my connections… OOF!” Do-Wop doubled over and began to make strangling noises. Probably the elbow Sushi had jammed into his solar plexus had something to do with his sudden distraction.
Seizing the opening, Sushi stepped forward, flashing his brightest smile. “No need to worry about that,” he assured the landlady. He fished out his wallet and continued, “My friend’s a real joker, but he doesn’t mean anybody harm, not one bit. We really do respect the laws of all the worlds we visit, and that certainly includes Hix’s World. Now, how much do we owe you for that room?”
The landlady favored Sushi with a suspicious glare, but the money in his hands seemed to settle the issue. “Ninety-two,” she said. After a moment she amended herself: “Ninety-two
“Fine,” said Sushi. “Here’s for two nights.”
“Number six, in back,” said the woman, jerking her thumb in that direction. “You c’n carry yer own bags.”
“I guess we can,” said Sushi. “Come on, buddy, let’s stow the bags, and then we can get down to business.” He reached down and picked up his duffel bag, and motioned to Do-Wop to do the same.“
“Yeah, yeah,” said Do-Wop, who’d more or less recovered his breath. “I can’t wait to find the captain so’s I can go back to goofin‘ off.”
“Remember, you two,” said the woman behind the desk. “I find out you’re up to any kind o‘ mischief-and I p’rtic’rly mean disclavery-I’m callin’ the sheriff!”
“Great freakin‘ place you found us, Soosh,” muttered Do-Wop, as he shouldered open the door to the outside. Perhaps fortunately, the woman behind the desk didn’t seem to hear him.
Chocolate Harry boldly strolled into the captain’s office as if he had every legitimate reason in the world to be there. In fact, he knew nobody was likely to question him. That was just as well, because inside, he was all but quivering in his oversize boots. Like many men who exploit loopholes and ambiguities in the rules, he had a secret fear of being caught-and while he was damned good at lawyering his way out of a situation, he always worried that he might someday meet his match. Captain Jester had given him considerable leeway. But at the moment, the captain wasn’t here to protect him. And that could mean big trouble.
“Well, right on time, Sergeant,” said Major Sparrowhawk, who’d taken the liberty of sitting in the captain’s desk chair. “Pull up a chair-no point being uncomfortable while we’re talking business.”
“Business?” Chocolate Harry’s expression was guarded. “ ‘Scuse me, Major, but I didn’t know we had any business to talk about.”
“Well, Sergeant, I’m about to fill you in on it,” said Sparrowhawk. “Sit down; the chair’s not wired.”
“OK, I’m sitting,” said Harry. He turned the chair around so the back was between him and the general’s adjutant, as if to give him some protection in case she started throwing things at him. “What’s the scam?”
