“What have you got?” she asked.
“The Capolamps are down. Their hotel room is full of Loow’s stuff. He wasn’t even cold before they were across the road and stole it.”
“Keep your cool, I need those people alive and talking.”
I unlocked my sensors and let her see what I had seen, then gave her a quick glimpse of Loow’s empty apartment.
“That’s a funny angle you had on the apartment,” she noticed.
“You think the Capolamps know something we don’t?” I didn’t want to talk about my fall.
“The thing is, they don’t seem to know the money is missing, so they probably didn’t shoot him.”
“They robbed my friend’s corpse.” That point was sticking in my crop.
“What’s the white powder?”
“Mycil, someone—”
“Was dusting for prints,” Marshal Harry said. “Avianforms don’t get athlete’s foot.”
That shut me up. I scanned Loow’s stuff.
“They lifted prints off his computer,” I noticed. “We will go over to Loow’s apartment and search it once we are finished here.”
“Don’t waste your time- if the money was there they would have found it and bolted. Bring the Capolamps in and find this Doc person.”
“Are you sure you want Doc?” I asked. “She has a smell that makes my eyes water.”
“You don’t have tear ducts.”
“I know- that’s how bad she smells.” The link cut and I went back to work with my sensors and scene of crime kit. We found Loow’s mattress in the bathroom, slashed open and the stuffing pulled out.
“These people are pissing me off,” I said.
“Me too. Can we shoot them for real now?”
“No. they will answer the marshal’s questions. In some ways, shooting would be kinder.”
Daisy drew a holopic from under the foot powder.
“The last few months, when Loow was drunk, he would talk about his kids,” she said. “Odd, because he never mentioned a family before.”
The holopic was of twelve Heedyin pups grouped together, looking skinny and hungry. Still looked ten times cuter than Loow with big orange hair tufts reflected in their huge oval eyes. There was a price tag built into the holopic for fifty thousand simoleans. I called the marshal again and showed her the thing. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things in my life, but a price tag on a bunch of kids is still one of the worst. Her voice was cold when she said:
“Bring me the Capolamps.”
The Capolamp I shot moved. My palps were dripping venom as I scuttled across the floor, but Daisy got there first and picked him up by one foot.
“The hell have you people been doing? Loow isn’t even cold and you’ve grabbed every stick he ever owned?”
“I just did what I was told,” the captured bird squawked. “I liked Loow, personally.”
“Name?” I demanded, dripping long slow blobs on his upturned beak. I’d seen the move in a film and liked it.
“Capolamp27, and could you stop dripping drool on me please?”
“That’s not drool, it’s venom. Tell me what you people are after.”
“I can’t.”
“I could pull one leg off,” Daisy pointed out. “He doesn’t need legs to talk.”
“That is true. So what’s this holopic about?” I pressed it against his beak. “Who are these kids?”
“I have no idea,” Capolamp27 said. “Look, I hold my hands up to stealing Loow’s stuff. He don’t need it anymore. But whatever he was into with the Rehd Shirts, we haven’t found out.
“The who now?” There were thousands of criminals in Port City, even I couldn’t know them all.
“The Rehd Shirts own a fleet of ships,” Capolamp27 said. “They move high end merchandise like drugs and guns. Wee Sis said Loow had sold all his stuff, house and that, to put a big deal together. She thought we could jack the cargo. But we didn’t. And if we did, I still had nothing to do with it.”
I bit him to shut him up. It didn’t work.
“Alas, is this the end of poor Capolamp27? All that lives must fail and perish. Cut off before I blossomed, ended in my sin. Unloved, unhoused, unbe—”
“Belt up, I only injected enough venom to knock you up. I mean out.” I hate when bit part actors build their part. “Daisy, toss this lot in the taxi's boot and let’s go. I bagged the computer and holopic as evidence and sealed the room with tape behind me.
In the elevator, I rechecked my guns. Taking Doc alive would be harder than taking down the Capolamps.
It took a bit of shoving but between us we got the Capolamps into the taxi.
“Right, get us back to the office,” I ordered.
“I can’t, I’m carrying too many people,” InyagoM said. “If the authorities stop us, I’ll lose my license.”
“I am the authority in your immediate area,” I enunciated carefully. “And I am telling you to get it in gear.”
He got it in gear. The marshal and LB had not returned by the time we arrived, lifted the trapdoor and shoved the rest of the Capolamps down there.
“Let’s go find Doc,” I told Daisy. “This ought to be fun.”
“Weren’t you guys married for a while?”
“Still are, I think.” I climbed on the back of the taxi. “My only excuse is it was a very dark club and I was very drunk.”
“How do we find her?” Daisy asked, climbing up beside me. “I hope we don’t have to shoot her, I like Doc.”
“It’s okay to use stun,” I pointed out. “Heavy stun is okay, too. We find her by eating pizza.”
“I don’t eat.”
“That’s okay, I’ll eat yours.”
“Thanks.”
CHAPTER 9
Pop’s Pizzas is on the main drag; a small, single-storey building set back from the rest and easily missed if you’re not looking for it. The shutters were closed. I scurried round to the back door and hammered on the shutter with four claws until Pop raised it, saw me, said: “No,” and tried to pull it shut. I jammed my head under the lip. The heavy scent of hot cooking fat washed over my antennae and drool spilled onto the floor. His pizzas are that good.
“I need to know where Doc is,” I said.
“That’s a round of pizzas question,” Pop pointed out. He stuck his snout through the gap and looked at Daisy. “And there’s only one of you.”
“He only counts customers,” I said to Daisy. “I’ll have six pizzas to go, two with rhubarb.”
“Wait here. I’ll make a call.”
Five minutes later he opened the door, and I dropped a hundred and five droogs into his large greasy palm. Pop doesn’t trust people much. He brought out a long tray with six pizzas, I opened my mouth and he slid them in. I felt my crop go to work, stuffed on the extra cheese stuffed crusts.
“Doc went to Underground,” Pops said as he closed the door. “Good luck with that one.”
“Shit.”
“What’s bad about going underground?” Daisy asked. “I would too, if I was her.”
“Underground is the amphibi-form bar on Hooplie street. I walk in there, every single one of them will want to eat me.”
“So we are not going in there?”
“Hell yes. I hate amphibians. Set your guns to maximum stun.”
The interior pond had taken hits, burst in a flood of green water and the blaze was almost out by the time Marshal Harry arrived. Still, she didn’t look happy as she stared down at me.
“You went in there to question one person?” she asked, waving a hand at the blackened skeleton of the roof. Daisy Tubes held up exhibit A. The crown of feathers on her head were soaked and her holster empty. Her scales glittered a dull, wet red and her arms hung limp.
“Normally, Doc looks a lot more dangerous,” I admitted.
“Went down harder than any of these amphibi-forms,” Daisy said.
“She’s what- a metre tall?”
“She packs a lot of nasty into a small area,” I admitted. Long Barn
acle arrived a close third behind Isamary.
“LB tells me she’s your ex-wife?”
“Sort of,” I admitted. “We were both drunk, so I don’t know how official the ceremony was.”
“But she’s a one metre tall feathered reptile of some description!”
“So? We were in love.”
“You’re a four metre long centipede. How could you... I mean... physically?”
“I’m the only one of my kind to leave the home world,” I pointed out. “I’ve learned to be flexible.”
Isamary looked from Doc to me and back again.
“I don’t want that picture in my head,” he said.
“Once you’ve gone reptile,” I said. “You never have ere—”
“Enough,” Marshal Harry held up a hand. “I need her conscious to answer questions about last night. We still do not have an exact time for Loow Alsh’s death. Or even a good approximation.”
“We played trans dimensional yatsy in the basement, until Soggibiscuit lost most of his cash and Loow went back upstairs to guard his bar,” a gruff synthetic voice answered. “That would be after four in the morning. Now tell this tin hussy to put me down.”
“Marshal, meet Doctor Ldiddles Ldiddles Frump,” I introduced. “She’s lived in the Full Mental Packet longer than anyone.”
“I never liked my middle name- call me Doc,” she said. Harry stared. “What are you looking at?”
“Not you,” I said. “She does that when she’s thinking. Put her down, Daisy.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Daisy said, as she placed Doc back on her feet. See what I mean? Sometimes Daisy is too much like a person for comfort.
“Right. Any more questions? No? Bye then.”
“Hang on, Doc,” I said, as I spotted a clue. “You’re the only one from the basement with a weapon that could blast holes in Big Sam.”
I pulled her hand gun from my harness and looked it over. She had fired it earlier, but I opened the power usage logs to check last night.
“That’s a shit thing to say to me, Chunglie,” Doc said. “You know me and Big Sam were lovers for ten decades.”
“Yeah, but you fell out over his gaming with Daisy. So I’m wondering—”
“Fill your claws you son of a Wuppsnack-” Doc snatched her gun from my claw and I drew.
“So you were living here the last time the bar was robbed?” Marshal Harry asked Doc.
“Wha-erm-yes?” Doc said, distracted by the gun pressed to her head.
“What happened?”
“Somebody robbed the place,” Doc shrugged. “Look, me and Chunglie are in the middle of something here.”
Marshal Harry looked from Doc’s gun to mine. I have quick reflexes.
“How’s that working out for you?”
“She was here for six of the robberies,” I said. “And that’s the only weapon here powerful enough to blast open a warbot.”
Doc lowered her gun and looked at it. I took mine from her head and holstered it.
“Apart from Old Number Seven,” Harry pointed out. “And Trembling Bob.”
Every eye turned to me. The surrounding crowd looked like they were enjoying the show.
“But we know I didn’t do it,” I said. “I’m on your side.”
“You’re on my side?” The marshal yelled. “Then why are the patrons of Underground lying stunned in the street?”
“Chunglie insisted that we rescue them,” Daisy supplied. “When the fire started. I would not have bothered.”
Marshal Harry spun to face Daisy.
“I believe her,” Doc said. “That steel slut cares for nothing but her own fun.”
“But why did they need rescued in the first place, is my point,” Marshal Harry said. “You went in there to find one witness and escort her to the office... and this is the result?”
She waved an arm at the burnt building, the water puddling in the street and the twenty-seven snoring amphibi-forms stretched out on the road. The two females were ten metres long, with six metre wide mouths. I’d taken photos for my trophy album. I trotted over to Exhibit B.
“This one tongued me. I stunned her, then all the guys joined in. It was self-defence.”
The Waddudu arrived and began clearing away the mess and taking the sleepers to an aid station, like good little workers. One or two stopped to look us over, then went about their business.
“What does the Queen of Shaws have to say about this?”
“I... ah... did get a pheromone message from the queen,” I admitted.
“What did it say?”
“Well, you don’t like colourful language, so...”
“Summarize it for me.”
“She cancelled my dance card until further notice,” I admitted. “She’s not bothered about the amphibi-forms because they have tried to eat her workers, but she is pissed about the building burning down.”
“That was me,” Daisy raised a hand. “I shot three guys using the bar for cover and the drink bottles burst into flames. It was an enjoyable gunfight.”
The marshal swiped left on Daisy’s badge and it turned off.
“Go home,” she ordered. “The Marshal Service does not have gunfights for fun.”
“I could say sorry?” Daisy tried.
“But it wouldn’t mean anything,” Marshal Harry pointed out. “Because you are a decommissioned warbot that wasn’t programmed with the concept.”
“True.” Daisy turned and rolled off back to the Full Mental Packet Bar. I backed up a step.
“I can see how this might look bad,” I admitted.
“Can you? I’m not sure you understand the concept of sorry, either.”
“I’m not sorry. They tried to eat me—”
“But you knew that would happen, and instead of calling me to go in your stead, you went in ready for a fight. So, in a way, you are still to blame for this lot.”
I asked the question that had been worrying me.
“Are you going to take my badge, too?”
“That would be difficult, since it is riveted onto your head,” the marshal admitted. “And it would leave me short staffed at this difficult time. Go back to the office, I will have to think about this.”
I’m not good at reading people, but I caught an angry vibe off Marshal Harry. I pulled the holo-photo from a bag on my cyber-harness and held it up. The cute little faces and the price tag were visible through the evidence bag.
“The Capolamps stole this from Loow,” I said. “No one knew Loow better than Doc. I think she can tell us what the price tag is about.”
“No I can’t. Can I go now?”
“Leave this with me,” the marshal said, taking the photo. “Go home.”
I went home. For the first time in months, I felt lonely walking through the streets of Port City.
CHAPTER 10
The lights were off in the office and I left them that way. The Spaceborne Jazz coming from the dormitory level was a puzzle until I remembered Big Walter was up there. I crawled under a desk and snoozed.
The marshal, Long Barnacle and Isamary returned two hours later. They smelled of ash and sweat. She stopped halfway to the stairs, but spoke without turning her head.
“I must admit, the arrogance of those amphibi-forms grates on my nerves,” she said.
“They’ve always been like that,” LB said. “They walked on land before anyone else and act like that makes them better than the rest of us.”
“Are you sure it’s okay for us to stay here tonight?” Isamary asked. “We could find a hotel.”
The marshal completed the walk to the stairs, turned. “Head up to the dorms, Isamary. Your Dad will be along later.”
“Oh?” LB asked. “Why can’t I head up now? It has been a long day, and I’m not used to all this walking.”
“Chunglie is under my desk, he’s waiting to talk to you.” She marched on up the stairs. I didn’t know what to say, she has never not spoken to me before. I reared my head level with LB.
> “Did your cybernetics record what you saw today?”
“Of course,” LB said. “I’m not poor, I have good quality implants.”
“In that case, play it for me on the office holo-projector.”
“Well in that case.” LB emphasised the words as he dropped into the marshal’s chair and wriggled himself comfortable. “What is there to drink?”
I keep a selection of stimulants for visitors and opened a flask of chilled pureed onions for myself. I took a long draught while LB set up the projector.
“This has alcohol in it?” he asked, picking up a glass of brown fluid.
“Yes. It’s a human drink called whisky. People send it to the marshal, but she never touches the stuff. We’ve got a fair sized collection of bottles.”
LB knocked back the glass and refilled it.
“Not bad. I can definitely help you dispose of those bottles. Okay, on with the show.”
The grey walls of the office disappeared, and we were out in the sunshine. A handsome centipede with an impressive red brush looked up at us. Seen through LB’s eyes, the marshal looked smaller and thinner than normal, and Isamary looked bigger with lustrous hair.
“You think a lot of that boy, don’t you?”
“Yes, but don’t tell him. I don’t want him catching my inflated ego.”
“Seen this bit,” I said. “Fast forward.” The view jiggled as LB followed the marshal through the streets, occasionally jabbing a finger in the right direction.
“Seriously, I’d no idea we would walk so much,” LB commented. “What does the marshal have against taxis?”
“Her kind evolved walking across a wide savannah. I think she misses it.”
We jogged up to a low rent building. It lacked basic amenities like windows. LB pressed play and everything slowed to normal speed.
“His wife told me he was here,” holo-LB said. “Just a stack I’m afraid.”
He walked along a line of steel doors, stopped at the one marked DD and punched 009 into the attached keypad. Distant machinery whirred and clanked.
“This is your farmer friend?” I asked, to fill the silence. There was a small voice nagging at me over the fall out with the marshal and I didn’t want to listen.
“Um, not really a friend,” LB admitted. “I buy his crops more as a favour to the rest of the family.”
When Harry Met Chunglie Box Set Page 12