He reached in his pocket and brought out the Festival schedule he’d gotten in his tourist information packet at the spaceport. This afternoon’s big attraction was a “floral ballet,” whatever that was, in the Festival Pavilion. A map showed the Pavilion at the edge of town, not far from La Retraite Rustique. He didn’t know for certain that Beeker would be there, but if the butler had come all this way for the Floribunda Festival, it was just a good bet he-or Nightingale-would want to see the floral ballet, as well.
Phule double-checked the map, returned it to his pocket, and set off in the direction of the Pavilion. It was a long shot, but at the moment it was still the best shot he had.
Do-Wop and Sushi sat on the ground, in the shade of a hedge a short distance from the entrance to La Retraite Rustique. Their bicycle was propped up next to them. The day had turned hot, and they both felt a certain dissatisfaction that their mission remained unfinished. Even Do-Wop, a firm believer that “If at first you don’t succeed, it’s a good time to quit,” was trying to find alternative strategies.
“What we need to do is sneak back in the joint,” said Do-Wop. “Then we can figure out what room the captain’s in and put a message under the door.”
Sushi shrugged. “It could work,” he said. “That concierge, Robert, could cause a lot of trouble, though. How do we know when he’s going to be away without sticking our faces in?”
“Uglypuss Robert has to eat some time,” said Do-Wop. “My cousin Louise, she useta be a waitress, told me the staff always eats before they start serving the customers. I bet that’s when this guy eats, too-before the dining room opens for lunch.”
Sushi checked the time. “If you’re right, that’d be in maybe half an hour. But there’ll be somebody covering for him-you can bet he’s going to warn them about us. What are we going to do about that?”
Do-Wop grinned and pointed a finger at Sushi. “We go in disguise!” he said.
Sushi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. It’d be really triff if we had a whole kit full of different costumes, and fake beards, and all the other stuff. Except we don’t. Tell me when you come up with a real idea.”
“No, Soosh, this’ll work,” said Do-Wop. “Like, if we sneak in the employees’ entrance while everybody’s eatin‘, we can pop into the locker room and snag ourselves some hotel uniforms-janitor’s coveralls or maybe a bellhop jacket. Then we just zip right into the main part of the hotel without anybody battin’ an eyeball. You got the right uniform, you can go anyplace you want.”
“How do you know they have a locker room?” said Sushi. “This isn’t that big a place, you know…”
“If that happens, we go straight to Plan B,” said Do-Wop, nonchalantly.
“Which is?”
“Run like hell and try to think of somethin‘ else,” said Do-Wop, with a wink. “C’mon, Soosh, have a little faith in your buddy.”
“I guess I don’t have any better ideas,” said Sushi. “Besides which, if this goes sour, I can outrun you. When the bad guys catch you, they’ll probably forget about me.” He stood up. “We might as well go try it.”
They left the rented bike behind a privet hedge bordering the back garden of La Retraite Rustique, then worked their way through the gardens, dodging behind trees and other bits of greenery just as they’d been taught in basic training-Brandy would’ve been proud of them. She’d have been even prouder if there’d been anybody in the gardens for them to hide from.
The two legionnaires stopped outside the back door, which bore a sign reading service entrance. They exchanged a glance, as if to ask whether they were still going through with it. Then Do-Wop shrugged, pushed the door open, and they went inside.
They were in a hallway with a pair of swinging doors in front of them, and closed doors to either side saying men and women. From directly ahead came the low buzz of talk and the clatter of utensils-the kitchen, most likely. Do-Wop poked Sushi to get his attention, pointed to the door marked men, and they quickly slipped through it. As anticipated, they found themselves in a locker room, with showers and toilet facilities visible through an opening at the far end. For the moment, at least, no one else was in the area.
“OK, look for somethin‘ we can use as a disguise,” said Do-Wop. “Long as it covers up the Legion uniform, it oughta work.”
“What makes you so sure?” said Sushi. “Don’t you think the bosses know who works here and who doesn’t?”
“Sure, when they stop and think about it,” said Do-Wop. “But most of the time, they’re not payin‘ attention, doin’ something else, y’know. If you act like you know what you’re doin‘ and where you’re goin’, you can walk right past ‘em and they don’t even notice. There’s always new guys on the job. My cousin Rufo useta pull this trick all the time when he was stealin’ stuff.” He walked over to some shelves, where jackets, aprons, and other items of employee apparel were laid out. “Maybe one of these will fit,” he said, tossing a jacket at Sushi. It was lavender with gold trim.
“What happened to your cousin Rufo?” said Sushi, slipping the jacket over his uniform. It was a loose fit, but close enough to pass.
“He got nailed,” said Do-Wop, putting on a jacket of his own. “Shit happens, y’know.”
“Just what I wanted to hear,” said Sushi, rolling his eyes. “Guess there’s nothing to do but give it a try, though. Let’s go…”
Wearing uniforms taken from the employee locker room, the two legionnaires stepped into the hallway. For the moment, at least, they were alone. But there were clearly people in the kitchen, where the sound of conversation and food preparation was audible. Unfortunately, the path into the rest of the hotel led through the kitchen.
Leaning against the wall on one side were a push broom and a dustpan. Do-Wop picked them up and handed them to Sushi, with a wink, then brandished a roll of paper towels he’d taken from the locker room. “Just like the Legion,” he said. “Look like you’re workin‘, and they leave you alone.”
Sushi pointed the broom handle toward the swinging doors into the next room, as if to say, “After you.” Do-Wop shrugged, then strode forward as if he had every right in the world to be where he was. After a moment, Sushi followed.
The kitchen was small but well lit, and full of wonderful odors-definitely in a league with Mess Sergeant Es- crima’s back at Zenobia Base, Sushi thought. The three men busy with food preparation had their backs to the two legionnaires, who moved past quietly. At the other end of the kitchen, several employees sat at two long tables, eating and talking. None of them spared more than a glance at Sushi and Do-Wop, as the two walked briskly through the room, doing their best to appear that they were on the way to some job. This was going almost too smoothly, Sushi thought to himself.
Then a door opened in front of them, and Sushi’s heart leapt into his throat as the concierge came into the kitchen, walking directly toward them, a scowl on his face. But Do-Wop dodged back against the wall to let him pass, and a frightened Sushi followed his lead. To his enormous relief, Robert strode past them with no sign of recognition. Without saying a word, Do-Wop continued out the doors.
Sushi was right on his partner’s heels. “Wow, I thought we were dead there,” he whispered. They had emerged into the hotel dining room-at the moment unoccupied except for the two of them.
“Ahh, nothin‘ to it,” said Do-Wop, out of the side of his mouth. “Just remember, act like we’re just doin’ a job and nobody’s gonna look at us twice. Come on, let’s see if we can find out what room the captain’s in.”
Do-Wop led the way through the dining room and out into the lobby, where a handful of guests sat reading or conversing. The guests ignored the two legionnaires, who strode over to the desk. There, Sushi glanced at the guest register while Do-Wop leaned on his broom. For whatever reason, Sushi’s partner found it impossible to read upside down, a skill that came easily to Sushi. “Three-thirteen,” he said softly.
“Upstairs, then,” said Do-Wop. “Let’s go get it.”
They started up the stairs-Hix’s World had apparently legislated gravshafts and elevators out of existence, along with almost every other really convenient modern device. At the second-floor landing, Sushi was slightly ahead, but as he looked around the corner to see which way to go, he ducked back quickly and whispered hoarsely, “The captain! He just came out of his room-quick, up the stairs so he doesn’t see us!”
They scuttled up to the fourth floor, hoping that Phule was headed in the opposite direction. Pausing to listen, they heard the captain’s footsteps heading downward, and heaved a sigh of relief. Their disguises might be good enough to fool the hotel staff, but they certainly weren’t going to get through a face-to-face encounter with the captain without being recognized. And Lieutenant Rembrandt had ordered them to keep the captain from learning that she’d sent them to look after him. Not that they were especially afraid of disobeying Remmie-but if
