by Ward Wagher
Roma pointed an index finger at Krause. "I see that sly grin. Secondly, this transaction will leave me with obligations to Woogaea that I don't need. As you said, nobody keeps score like the Woogies."
"That's exactly what I think they are doing," Krause said. "They see what is coming as well as you or I. No fools they. Besides, I think this will fit well into what we are trying to achieve."
Roma leaned forward and planted his elbows on the desk top, then buried his face in his hands. Krause puffed on the cigar in silence for a while, waiting to see what Roma would say next.
Roma looked up at Krause. "You keep working on that thing, and you're going to make everybody in the house sick."
"Nonsense. This is invigorating. I haven't had one in months...”
“Apparently the last one didn't kill you.”
“...and I revel in the opportunity."
"That's because you can't smoke them aboard ship," Roma said, "because they befoul the air systems. I can just imagine what you are doing to your lungs. And I wish I had never let you talk me into helping you on this fool's errand.”
"Considering the alternatives, Carlo, did you really have a choice?"
"Consider this, Admiral: one hundred years from now we will both be dead and forgotten. What is the worth of what we're trying to do?"
"We've talked about this before. Have you reached different conclusions?"
Roma sighed again and shook his head, and glanced around the room. The indirect lighting glowed against the warm vanilla painted plaster and soaked into the dark wood trim.
"No," he said heavily. "Honor demands that we do this, even if we die trying."
"Exactly. Now, can we get down to business?"
Roma slapped the top of the desk with his hand. "Will you shut up? Skies above, Willard. For once, let me wallow in my misery."
Krause had been playing with the cigar. He now stuck it back in his mouth and began applauding as he grinned around it. "Bravo, Carlo. You do that so well. It gives me some reassurance that you are not nearly as cynical as I."
Roma glared at Krause. "You know, it would be remarkably easy to dislike you."
The admiral shrugged. "I'm not like you. I have no overweening desire to be loved. On balance, it makes it a lot easier to do the things I have to do."
"Come now, Willard. Nobility does not become you."
"I've never made any claim to nobility. I'm simply doing what has to be done to save humanity. I am not the Savior on a white horse. I'm the guy mucking out your Augean Stables. And all the League's horses have dumped an awful lot of road apples over the years."
Roma held up both hands. "Okay, okay. I'm convinced of your cynicism. Since we are joined at the hip on his venture, I suppose we ought to make an effort to tolerate one another. Which leads me to the next question: why is Frank Nyman involved in this cargo the Woogies are delivering?"
Krause swung his legs off the coffee table and dropped his cigar into the wineglass, where it went out with a hiss. He pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the desk where he leaned over it with both hands on the desktop.
"I cannot believe you have forgotten our plans. Nyman is the key to what we're doing."
"You keep telling me that," Carlo retorted. "But, I just don't see it. Frank Nyman is impulsive, ill tempered, and has questionable judgment.” He paused. “I honestly think he has rocks in low Earth orbit."
"You think he's nuts? After what we put him through on Hepplewhite, how would you ever reach that conclusion?"
Roma looked down at his desk, shaking his head. He started to speak a couple of times and stopped.
Krause's face softened. "Look, I know that whole episode was a nightmare for you. It's always rough to lose someone you care about, particularly in those kind of circumstances. But, Frank Nyman was as much an innocent bystander as your brother. You can't let this cloud your judgment of the man."
"I just don't see him carrying out the role you have assigned him, Willard."
"Well, if he doesn't, we will just have to pick someone else. But right now, he's the best we've got. And his son is showing a lot of promise too."
"That's fine when he's sitting out there on the backside of your sector. But he's getting ready to show up here on Earth, and if I don't much like him, he purely hates me."
Krause straightened up and paced the room. He walked over and studied the ceramic artwork on the shelves, then turned around.
"Are you telling me you can't handle his being here, Carlo? If you cannot, I will make arrangements to ensure you two do not meet."
"I don't need you telling me you think I can't handle a difficult situation."
Krause folded his arms across his chest. "That's what it sounded like to me."
Roma rolled his eyes. "Good Lord, Willard. Sometimes I wish I had the authority to have you shot! You are trying to manipulate me too."
"You would be doing me a favor if you did. Now, are you with me on this or not?"
Roma gazed around the room, then jumped out of his chair and walked quickly back out onto the patio. He put his hands on his hips as he scanned the scenery, not really seeing it. Then he spun around and walked back into the study.
"You know," he began, "sometimes I really do hate you. But, you are right. I'm with you on this. I wish I wasn't."
"Thank you, Carlo. I really do appreciate you putting up with me. Regardless of our plans, there are times I really want to push Frank Nyman out of an airlock without a spacesuit. I need your help in staying under control myself. The man never fails in surprising me."
“Have you ever considered he might wish the same thing of you?” Roma asked.
Krause barked a short laugh. “That's a sucker's bet, Carlo. While he doesn't care much for you, he sees me as the person who has been meddling in his life without mercy.”
“And he's right too.”
Krause tilted his head. “No argument there.”
§ § §
"All right, Mister, would you mind explaining to me precisely what you hoped to achieve by taking over a Navy cruiser, and brigging half its crew?” Krause's face was bright red, and the veins on his neck stood out in relief against his skin.
Frank stepped up close to Krause. "Let me repeat myself, slowly and distinctly, so even an admiral can understand what I am saying. Rogers Cambaert tried to hijack my ship so he could help himself to the Woogie treasure."
"I don't believe that for a minute. Commander Cambaert is a twenty year Navy veteran. I know he can be prickly at times, but if he is capable of something like this, who else in the Navy can we trust?"
Frank just looked at the admiral.
"Come on, Frank. This just doesn't make sense."
"Listen, Admiral. He waited until we had stopped for our bearing shot, and suddenly announced he had discovered anomalies that made him suspicious. He ordered us to heave to for inspection. When Charlie Schubach started spinning up his drives, Cambaert cleared for action. Doesn't that seem just a little odd to you?"
"Frank, why is it every time we meet, I feel like you have tracked something across the carpeting?"
"You did isolate the boarding party for interrogation, didn't you?" Frank asked.
"Yes, yes, yes," Krause ground out. "I believe you, Frank. It's just that these kind of adventures seem to follow you around."
"I would like very much to have a normal, dull, boring, uneventful life, Admiral. You wouldn't believe the sewer rats I've run into on New Stockholm. And let's not even talk about Hepplewhite."
"The boarding party is talking," Krause said. "We don't know who tipped off Cambaert, but he promised the boarding party wealth beyond their wildest dreams. Cambaert's not talking, so we don't know if he's been looking for an opportunity, or if this was a spur of the moment thing."
"So why are you giving me the third degree?"
"Because you got the Woogies involved. We now have to have a full trial and all of the attendant publicity. And let me tell you we don't need that."
"Actually it would not. All it does is get people thinking about it, and the next guy will think he's smart enough to get away with it. But that's not my concern."
"Oh. So this is one of your interstellar political calculation things, right?"
"You just shut your mouth, Frank!" Krause flared. "You have no idea how big this is, how serious things are becoming."
"Willard." Carlo Roma said quietly. He had been sitting quietly in the corner of the captain's ready room on the Lockhurst as Frank and Willard Krause argued.
Krause looked over at Roma, then visibly shook himself. He turned back to Frank. "I apologize, Frank. You handled this about as well as anybody could. And you did it without killing anybody, which is amazing in and of itself. I'm just angry because I cannot personally strangle Rogers Cambaert."
"That I can understand," Frank said. "Killing Cambaert was never far from my mind either. So what do we do now?"
"You and I and Carlo need to speak with the nest guardians and see how they want to handle the transfer."
Frank looked over at Roma. "I can't believe you are letting the Woogies beggar themselves to give you all that money."
"As I told the admiral, I would have just given them the charter if they asked."
Frank looked back and forth between the admiral and Roma, As he bit his lower lip. "Yeah, you're right. That wouldn't work. How does it feel to owe the Woogies big-time, Carlo?"
"How do you think I feel? I honestly didn't see this one coming. And there's no question in my mind that the Woogies know exactly what they're doing."
Frank nodded. "If it wasn't so scary, these little surprise packages the pink monsters dream up would be funny. I know you and the admiral are trying to make the universe safe for mankind, but I hope you recognize there's another player in the game."
Roma stared at the floor as he considered what Frank said. "You mean the Woogies? Yes, I suppose you are right. Willard, were you aware of this?"
"Well, I certainly am now. I have no idea if it makes our lives easier or harder."
"Now that we've got that settled," Frank said, "let's go see Peebee and Peejay before they poke each other's eye out."
“What?” both Roma and Krause asked in unison.
“Never mind. It was just a stupid joke.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
"I am Peebee."
"I am Peejay."
The two Woogies spoke at exactly the same time, using the same words, other than their different names. Carlo Roma looked between them in evident puzzlement.
"I understand that one of you is the Nest Guardian for the entire planet of Woogaea," he said.
"I am," both Nest Guardians said simultaneously. "Represent all Woogies everywhere."
Roma had arranged for the use of one of his corporate conference centers. This one was located at Asimov Station, in low Earth orbit. The large, opulent conference room had been set up, at Roma's instructions, to host a meeting of heads of state, which was practically true in this case. No one was disposed to dispute whether the Nest Guardians represented all Woogies. And, for all practical purposes Roma and Krause represented a large segment of humanity.
Frank was present in the room and at the table, at Krause's request as well as the Woogies. Charles Schubach was also present, at Sooozie's order, and was dressed in his new uniform along with the name tag. It was evident he was having trouble maintaining a dignified and sober demeanor as the Nest Guardians spoke.
Standing around the perimeter of the room were about 20 security guards employed by Nano Roma. They were well turned out, and standing at attention. In between each guard stood a member of Sooozie's security squad, each of whom was paying careful attention.
Behind the head of the table where Carlo Roma sat was a Woogie shipping pallet centered between the table and the wall. The pallet was made of aluminum alloy, and had rounded corners. The pallet was stacked with rounded containers, roughly one foot square. They were flattened on the sides and the top, but there were no hard corners.
"You have honored me greatly by traveling all the way to Earth for this meeting," Roma said. "It was unexpected. In fact, I only recently became aware that you had embarked and were bound for Earth."
"The honor is ours," the Nest Guardians said. "The Carlo has a tradition of wise and honest transactions with the Woogies. To be appreciated."
"And the Woogies have been faithful trading partners as well," Roma said. "I believe I can honestly say that I prefer doing business with you over dealing with most humans."
"But the Carlo needs to do business the humans too, true?" the vocoders rattled off.
Roma quickly reviewed the Nest Guardians last statement in his mind and put the words in proper places before he responded. In the corner Schubach gave a slight grunt as he struggled to maintain his composure. Frank looked over and glared at him.
"I believe all humans and Woogies need to freely trade among themselves, without the coercion of any government," Roma said.
"Coercion?" Came the dual voices. While the two Nest Guardians spoke with exact synchronicity, the pitch of their vocoders was slightly different. It lent a twanging sound to the exchange. There was another squeak from Schubach. This time Roma glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow, and Frank turned red.
"I do not believe it is in anyone's best interest for governments to attempt to regulate or restrain trade. Coercion means to use force in gaining compliance, and I believe that is wrong."
"The Woogies agree. Want to remove impediments to trade. Purpose of trip."
"I understand you wish to purchase your planetary charter," Roma said.
"Wishes are fishes," said the Nest Guardians.
“Huh?” Roma looked surprised, and his composure slipped slightly. A snort escaped from Schubach, who attempted to cover it with a fit of coughing.
Frank looked over at Roma. "Excuse me just a minute, please, Carlo."
He slipped out of his chair and walked over to Schubach, who now turned pale.
"If you cannot keep control of yourself," he said quietly, “I will surely kick you the hell out of here. Do you read me, Captain?”
“Yes, Sir.”
A tentacle reached out to touch Frank's arm.
"Schooobach must remain here," Sooozie said. "Hell is not a place for Schooobach. Does the Frank agree?"
Frank looked back and forth between Schubach and the Woogie. "You have my apologies, Suzie. If you want Captain Schubach here, he may stay."
“Sooozie.”
“Right. Sooozie.”
He glared once more at Schubach, and then returned to the table.
Sooozie turned so that the Woogie's vocoder was pointed directly at Schubach. "The Frank needs the Redeemer. A tortured soul."
"I don't really understand all this Redeemer stuff," Schubach said out of the corner of his mouth.
"Must talk to you too," Sooozie said. "The Frank needs the Redeemer. Then he will be perfectly Frank."
"Ha, ha ha!” Schubach laughed loudly but the laughter was strangled when Frank whirled around to glare at him again.
"The fault belongs to Sooozie," the Woogie said quickly. "No harm no foul."
“No need to behave so hard,” the Nest Guardians said. “Good humor is blessing from the Redeemer.”
Roma bowed his head slightly. “Of course, Sirs. I guess human standards of decorum are a little different from the Woogies.”
“So we understand. Humans different from Woogies. Sometimes humans too serious.”
Roma smiled and chuckled slightly. “There is no doubt many of us humans take ourselves too seriously.”
“Woogies try not to worry about the unchangeables,” the Nest Guardians continued. “Otherwise it would be to always to flatztabooblebobble ammonia.”
It wasn't immediately clear whether the vocoder was attempting to transliterate a Woogie word, or it had just gotten crossed up somehow.
&nb
sp; “What?” Roma asked.
Charles Schubach put his hand over his mouth and slowly dropped to his knees. Then he dropped forward, prone on the floor. He rolled over on his side and drew his knees up. After about thirty seconds he finally was able to draw in a long, shuddering breath. The initial paralyzing effect had passed and he burst into a keening, high pitched laughter.
Frank slowly folded his arms on the table in front of him and lowered his head to the table.
Sooozie folded over so that her large single blue eye was close to Schubach. “Is the Charles injured?”
This produced another paroxysm in Schubach.
“No, Suzie,” Roma said. “He is just overcome with laughter.”
“Sooozie.”
And Schubach laughed all the harder.
Sooozie scanned back and forth over Schubach and spoke again. “So sorry, the Charles. He has made water in his new uniform.”
At that both Krause and Roma burst into laughter. A moment later Frank, who was still cradling his head in his arms on the table, laughed as well. The Woogies flooped along in the general merriment. The guards, who were trained not to react to conversation in the room also struggled to maintain composure.
§ § §
“What am I going to do with you?”
Frank was sitting in the hotel suite on Asimov Station. Charles Schubach, now changed into clean clothes, sat across the room.
“Skipper, I'm as sorry as I can be,” Schubach said. “I've never had a problem like that before. I saw some pretty funny things when I was in meetings with Admiral Krause, but never came close to breaking a smile, let alone what I did today. It's just that there's something about the Woogies that strikes me funny.”
Frank shook his head. “I'm not worried about the Woogies. They're pretty tolerant. It's having you do that in front of Roma and Krause that really concerns me. I don't need them wondering about my judgment in keeping you aboard Forsythia.”
“Skipper, I'm willing to go apologize to them personally. And if you want my resignation, you've got it.”
“There's no way I can do that now,” Frank said. “After you retired, wet pants and all, the Nest Guardians announced that they would personally give you a bonus for the trip. They made it clear it was over and above whatever I was paying you. For some reason they really like you. And forget about apologizing. Probably the less Krause and Roma see of you right now, the better.”