All the while Captain Aubrey droned on about the ambassador’s love of food. “I once had the pleasure of dining with Ambassador Pudge here on board the Euripides. A gracious host he was, offering me pies and tarts from his home world until I was stuffed to the gills . . . ”
When they reached the cart, Smythe had just about exhausted his strength. He sucked in air as if he was a Terran vacuum cleaner.
“Could you use a couple of willing hands?” asked Sir Giles.
Smythe slapped his knee as he bent over in hopes of catching a second wind. “Please.”
Nanette, being the strongest of the three, grabbed the center of the cart rung and heaved it back into motion. Smythe grinned, admiring the ease with which Nanette pushed the cart. Sir Giles took up the next rung and so did Smythe.
“You don’t need any help from us, do you?” Smythe asked Nanette.
“Nope. Does that bruise your masculinity? I’m designed to be strong. As a matter-of-fact, both of you could jump on and I’d only slow just a teensy bit.”
Sir Giles winked at Smythe, urging him to say something nice. Smythe couldn’t think of anything to say except, “I like strong women.”
Nanette gave him the stink-eye. “Men.” She shook her head. “At least look like you’re helping. Put some strain into your posture.” They did.
Captain Aubrey continued. “ . . . and when Ambassador Pudge jumped into the promenade pool his girth displaced so much water the pool overflowed like a tidal wave, washing his friends and colleagues from their lounge chairs.” The crowd laughed at the anecdote. “At heart he was a jovial prankster.” The crowd began weeping again.
Behind Smythe, Nanette, and Sir Giles, a series of forklifts carrying sealed tubs of Ambassador Pudge’s liquefied fat rolled slowly, following the pace of the main procession. The cart, still squeaking, made its way to the podium to finally stop for all to see. The fat laden forklifts continued with their loads to the Sussian transport ship.
“So with a sorrowful heart,” said Captain Aubrey finishing up, “we pay our final respects to Ambassador Oinklin Pudge. Our comrade in diplomacy. Our link to a kindly soul. Our friend. Senselessly struck down in the prime of his feasting life. We will never forget you, we will never forgive those involved in your demise.”
The crowd clapped through their tears. It took many moments before the clapping ended so Captain Aubrey could sign off. “For those wishing a moment, the remains of the departed will be available for viewing before being sent back to his home world for internment.”
Sir Giles relaxed. “Smythe.”
“Yes, Sir Giles.”
“You and Nanette stand over there.” He pointed to the left of the podium. “And I’ll go to the other side. Keep an eye out for anyone that looks suspicious.”
“You don’t think the murderer will reveal himself to us here, do you?”
“It’s a long shot. But you never know when a mistake on the part of the guilty will be presented.”
They parted and took their posts, watching the ambassadors and assistants ambling up to give themselves closure. Some just stood over the body while others couldn’t even look at the lump of Sussian meat. The Sussian flag had begun to soak up some of the grease and stick to the body, leaving less to the imagination as to what it covered than was proper.
Glounce and Pi moved along the line chatting quietly. When they reached the corpse, both bowed their heads in silent reverence. Glounce’s tentacles slithered along the floor as he made his way to the head of the cart. One of his suckers suctioned the edge of the trailing flag that covered the ambassador’s body. Before he noticed his dilemma, he had pulled the flag away to reveal the perfectly roasted Sussian.
The crowd groaned in dismay. Some of the ambassadors fainted dead away.
* * *
NANETTE AND SIR GILES ENTERED the Command Control Center of the Euripides to find Captain Aubrey and another gentleman waiting in front of the vidi-screen.
Captain Aubrey made introductions. “Sir Giles and SLASP Agent Nanette Thackery, this is Ambassador Adlaison of your Terran Solar System.”
Sir Giles and Adlaison shook hands. Adlaison interrupted the older man before he could speak. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Giles. I’ve followed your cases my whole life. And I have to admit I’m kind of an amateur sleuth myself.”
“Well, thank you, ambassador. I look forward to hearing some of your deductions on this most unfortunate case.”
“Is this your lovely granddaughter?”
“Yes, she is,” responded Sir Giles.
Adlaison held out his hand to Nanette. Adlaison winced as his bones cracked. “Whoa!” He aired out his pinched hand. “I should’ve realized that SLASP agents have strong grips.” Nanette smiled and apologized.
“Just why are we in the CCC, Captain Aubrey?” asked Sir Giles. “I wasn’t aware that we were scheduled for a meeting.”
“We weren’t,” responded the captain. “But a priority message from Terra requested the presence of the four of us personally. Damn irregular too. I’d like to disregard the communique but it was initialed PMT.”
“As in Prime Minister of Terra?” asked Nanette.
Captain Aubrey tilted his head. “So here we are, waiting for the PMT to get this show on the road.”
Sir Giles leaned into Nanette and whispered, “Who’s the PMT these days?”
“Manny Mankowicz.”
“Mankowicz? Like in the famous Polish hotdogs? All fyak, All kosher, All good?”
“The very one,” she confirmed. “His family has been making those tasty franks for hundreds of years. He ran on the platform, ‘A Doggone Good Prime Minister.’ ”
“Very catchy. Brand recognition is a powerful tool in the hands of a shrewd politician.” Nanette nodded.
The vidi-screen flickered into view showing Manny squeezing mustard on a footlong hotdog. Looking up, he realized his call had gone through. He put down the food, licking some mustard off of a thumb. “Evening.” Someone cued him off screen. “Morning. What difference does it make?”
Captain Aubrey saluted. Manny flicked a one finger salute back. “At ease captain. I see you assembled everyone I requested.”
“Yes Prime Minister.”
“Adlaison.” Manny nodded towards the ambassador and then to Sir Giles. “Sir Giles. I’d like to have met you under nicer circumstances but I realize you don’t work that way.”
“No,” answered Sir Giles. “I’m usually not available except under the most extreme situations.”
“Agent Thackery,” Manny nodded towards Nanette. She returned the head bob. “I’ve gathered all of you here today to inform you I’ve authorized a breach in the SATO quadrant security around the Euripides to allow for two more guests.”
Nanette protested. “That’s highly unusual, and unwelcome under the circumstances. These two must be very special to receive such treatment. Are they coming to help assist in the investigation?”
“No, not exactly.” Manny looked uncomfortable. “They’re coming on board for a vacation.”
“Vacation?!” Captain Aubrey roared. “When I’m berthing all the Galactic Guild ambassadors and a maniacal murderer is on the loose? I must protest vehemently.”
“You can protest all you want but the fact remains that you’re going to have two more passengers today.”
Sir Giles scowled. “To what do we owe the honor of their visit?”
Manny cleared his throat and eyed the cooling footlong hotdog longingly. He had second thoughts about taking a bite. Then his hunger overran better judgment and he munched down. Mustard seeped from the corner of his mouth as he closed his eyes, chewed, savored the flavor, then swallowed before speaking. “Sorry,” he mumbled wiping the mustard away with a napkin. “It’s been a trying day. Hmm, where was I?”
Adlaison was annoyed. “Telling us why we are receiving two new guests.”
“Right.” Manny sat back in his seat and folded his arms on his chest. “Do you remember last yea
r’s tragic incident on Praylion?”4
“Cardinal Nog’nik’s coup?” asked Nanette. Sir Giles looked confused so Nanette gave a quick brief. “Nog’nik tried to overthrow Glup III as the Supreme Spiritual Leader of the Galactic Guild only to be thwarted by a Finigrian and a common Terran pilgrim with the help of two GG field agents.”
“Oh,” said Sir Giles.
“Yes, the very incident,” continued Manny. “After Nog’nik was defeated with the help of a few million passive pilgrims, those same pilgrims joined a class action lawsuit against the Galactic Guild for not protecting their rights to worship Glup III. That suit just wrapped up with the pilgrims winning. I might mention it was the biggest award in the history of the Galactic Guild legal system.”
“I can’t believe that non-materialistic pilgrims care a fig about money or financial gain,” said Sir Giles.
“All the money goes to the blasted church,” responded Manny. “But—”
“There’s a catch,” interrupted Sir Giles. “Some wanted to travel. Specifically on the Euripides?”
“Exactly,” said Manny. “An elderly couple who were vacationing on Praylion at the time of the coup started the litigation on behalf of the millions of pilgrims affected by the harsh treatment that Nog’nik doled out. The husband was a lawyer of some type in the service. Apparently, retirement hasn’t dulled his legal mind. His wife is no pushover either. They’re a tenacious pair. The judge awarded them a replacement vacation of their choosing. No restriction in cost or convenience to the GG. It just so happens that they chose the Euripides.”
Adlaison waved his hand to get Manny’s attention, leaning closer to the vidi-screen. “Didn’t someone mention the trouble we’re facing? The danger involved in coming on board?”
“Of course,” responded the irritated PM. “The couple thought it was exciting. Which made them want to vacation on board even more.”
“Who are these two?” asked Captain Aubrey. “Maybe I can talk some sense into them.”
“You’ll do no such thing, captain. You’re to give them the royal treatment. Honor them as if they are a king and queen. We can’t afford to go back to court for another round. Do I make myself clear?”
Captain Aubrey’s mustache puckered as he mumbled something foul under his breath.
“I can’t hear you,” said Manny with a sly grin on his face.
“Yes Mister Prime Minister.”
“That goes for all of you. No slip ups. No mistreatment.” He groaned as his lovely, plump wife came into view and hugged her husband about the neck affectionately.
“Trudy?! Please. I’m in the middle of a meeting.”
“Hi everyone.” She waved pudgy fingers at the vidi-screen. Everyone waved back. “Be nice. Grams and Gramps can be a little difficult when their feathers are ruffled. I just wanted to warn you before they get there. They should be arriving within the hour in their RJX-45 Worldcruiser Class Personal Space Vehicle.”
Sir Giles’ eyes twinkled. “The split-back ’63 Corvette or ’59 Cadillac replica?”
“The Cadillac.”
“Good choice.” Sir Giles responded to everyone eyeing him oddly. “More leg room.”
Trudy twiddled her fingers goodbye and walked out of view.
Manny leaned closer to the vidi-camera out of earshot of his wife. “For the Maker’s sake, please take care of them or I won’t have sex for the next decade.”
* * *
THE FLIGHT DECK CREW with hand beacons ablaze, directed Herbert and Martha’s RJX-45 Worldcruiser into the hanger bay. The ’59 Caddy’s turn signal blinked incessantly left—probably for the last lightyear or two—until Herbert parked the spacecraft between two lines marked in florescent orange with the words:
VIP RESERVED
The turn signal finally stopped when the craft powered down.
Captain Aubrey, Ambassador Adlaison, Sir Giles, Agent Nanette and Purser Smythe stood by waiting for the old couple to emerge from the classic space vehicle. The seals broke around Herbert’s door hissing to equalize the air pressure. Smythe raced up to the vehicle to assist. Herbert, in khaki shorts, a tucked in Hawaiian shirt, suspenders, white crew socks and shiny new sneakers, rose from the cockpit.
“Martha! M-Dammit, you had the last lightyear to prissy up your makeup. Time’s a wasting old gal. Shake a leg.”
From inside the spaceship you could hear Martha snapping shut a compact. “Yes, dear.”
Smythe saluted. So did Captain Aubrey and Nanette. Herbert harrumphed. “I ain’t in the military any more. Not been for fifty years. Even when I was, I was only a JAG5 officer. So stop your saluting and someone open the damn door for my wife.”
Smythe looked nervously to Captain Aubrey who ended his salute and indicated with his eyes for Smythe to go get the old lady from the other side of the vehicle. Smythe did with all haste.
Martha’s silvery-white head emerged with a perfectly tight curly hairdo that mimicked the coat of a poodle. Smythe held out his arm for her and she gladly accepted. “Thank you young man. My knees aren’t what they used to be.” She was wearing a pretty print dress and a soft, well-worn sweater along with a pair of comfortable sneakers.
“Let me assist you ma’am,” offered Smythe. “You must’ve had a long tiresome journey.”
She nodded wobbling a bit getting to her husband’s side. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if Herbert would stop for more breaks at the rest stops in the Antarian Nebula.”
Herbert heard the jibe and responded with a typical Herbert retort. “Like to get where I’m going is all. Is that so-o-o wrong?”
“No dear,” she said changing to Herbert’s arm and releasing Smythe. “We’re here. That’s all that matters now.”
Smythe returned to the welcoming committee to stand next to Nanette and Sir Giles. Herbert began looking around, taking in his surroundings.
“Kind of puny for a luxury class starship,” he mumbled. “I’d expect more personal spacecrafts, maybe a few spaceyachts. Looks like there’s plenty of room for Martha and I on board this tub.”
“I beg your pardon,” piped up Captain Aubrey. “The Euripides is a fine vessel. And we’re filled to capacity with all the ambassadors and their entourage from the Galactic Guild. They’re here for their annual summit meeting.”
“Can’t tell from looking at the hanger bay, can I? There’s not another vehicle except ours on this deck.”
“Let me assure you sir,” Captain Aubrey hesitated, not knowing the elderly couple’s full name.
“Herbert Tiffany and my wife Martha,” said the retired Marine. “You must be the captain.” Herbert reached out his hand to shake but Captain Aubrey wasn’t happy after Herbert’s trashing of his ship. So Ambassador Adlaison moved forward to shake the elderly man’s hand.
“I’m your ambassador from the Terran System.”
“Adlaison, isn’t it?”
“Yes sir.”
“That fool of a grandson-in-law, Manny, appointed you I suppose?”
Adlaison was taken aback by the disrespect Herbert voiced about the Prime Minister. “Um. Yes he did.”
“Herbert.” Martha scolded. “Mind your manners. Just because you didn’t vote for him doesn’t mean Manny’s a fool. Besides, there must be something good about him if Trudy picked him for a husband.”
“She likes hotdogs,” grumbled Herbert. “Knew he could keep her happy with those new Double Double Garlic Dogs they’ve been advertising.”
Smythe leaned into Nanette. “I like those too. They’re really tasty.”
“Right,” said Adlaison trying to move the conversation along. He reached over and tugged on Sir Giles’ coat sleeve. “This is the famous Sir Giles Thackery and his granddaughter, SLASP Agent Nanette Thackery.”
“Ooh,” twinkled Martha starstruck. “I never thought I’d ever meet you. Of course I’ve read all your cases and watched you on the Galactic Channel.” She reached out to shake Sir Giles’ hand.
Sir Giles politely took her wrinkly han
d and gave it a peck from his lips. “I’m very charmed to make your acquaintance.”
Martha giggled and blushed. Herbert didn’t approve and slid an arm around Martha’s shoulder drawing her close. “Well.” He stood like a rock. When no one asked him what he wanted, he volunteered. “Would someone have our bags brought to our cabin? We’d like to relax a bit before getting something to eat.”
“Right away, sir,” said Smythe. “I’ll bring them up personally.” He pause. “Um. Where is your luggage?”
“In the trunk, silly,” laughed Martha. Herbert pressed a remote key and the trunk of the RJX-45 Worldcruiser popped open to reveal numerous large suitcases marked with stickers from all parts of the Galactic Guild. Smythe busied himself removing the heavy luggage.
“Ahem.” Martha cleared her throat. “I hate to mention this . . . ”
“Yes ma’am?” Adlaison said.
“Did my grandson-in-law reserve our room? I mean, I don’t want to be a burden, but we did specifically ask for a room with a view.”
“I haven’t had time to arrange your quarters yet,” volunteered Captain Aubrey. “But I’m sure we can find adequate accommodations for the both of you.”
“You’ll find the bridal suite,” demanded Herbert, “or I’ll make a call to my granddaughter who will in turn talk to her husband.”
“Herbert!” Martha looked stressed. “Don’t make idle threats. It’s not worth it upsetting these young folks.”
“Maker Dammit, Martha. I didn’t go through a year’s worth of court proceedings to settle for the broom closet on board some dinky GG spaceship. We want the bridal suite and that’s final. After all, we only deserve the best for our second honeymoon.”
Sir Giles calmed the couple down. “Oh, I think that’s a wonderful idea. How many years have you two been married?”
“One hundred, come this spring,” Martha said.
“Everyone should celebrate their centennial wedding anniversary in style. Maybe some champagne is in order? Wouldn’t you agree, Captain Aubrey?”
Captain Aubrey’s mustache was still twitching at his ship being called dinky. “Yes,” he said reluctantly.
Murder on Euripides Page 5