Master Chief Torpedoman Bates came off the bed on which he was lounging. "Who the hell told you that?" he asked. "Even Happy here don't know about—" He stopped.
"That is a fact," Happy said.
Pan Satyrus said, "I have retrogressed, but not completely; I can still use the eyes and the brain I inherited. Even if I do talk all the time, and I must say I am getting tired of the sound of my own voice. Why there were depth bombs on your deck, Ape. And to someone who has spent five and a half years being dragged from one atomic laboratory to another space project, it was obvious that they are built to take atomic warheads. The bayonet sockets—"
Ape Bates said, "Shut up, Pan! They'll put you up against a wall and shoot you."
"Don't talk like a stump-tailed macaque, Ape," Pan said. "If they can find out from me how to go faster than light, they can make the Russians look like monkeys. Rhesus monkeys."
"Sometimes I think you got a racial prejudice against those rhesuses," Happy said.
"The giant rhesus is about as intelligent as any animal I have ever known," Dr. Bedoian said. "Though I haven't worked with baboons."
"Two of the stupider branches of the great order of primates," Pan said. He looked a little angry. "I believe, doctor, you have mistaken docility and the willingness to be the dupe of humans for intelligence."
"Have it your own way, pal," Dr. Bedoian said. "All right. I'll do my duty by my country. If you will agree to surrender your great secret — how you made that spaceship do what it did — I'm authorized to give you anything you want."
"By whom?"
"General Maguire."
"That giant with the brain of a marmoset? Try higher, doctor."
Dr. Bedoian threw up his hands. "Pan, I made a damned bad Judas goat, if you know what that is. Take my advice and keep your mouth shut."
"You was just about to have a bad time, doc, before you said that," Ape Bates said. "Yeah, you listen to the doc, Pan. Tell 'em nothing."
Happy Bronstein said, "But is he going to be able to? Whatever went wrong with him, it seems to make him talk."
Pan Satyrus put his hands over his face and began to make peculiar noises. The two sailors were on their feet with alarm; but the doctor said, "He's laughing."
When he could control himself, Pan said, "I couldn't possibly explain without a diagram. And I retrogressed back to where I have to talk; but not to where I have to draw drawings and made sketches. I'm still a little better than human."
"I never wrote on the wall of a head in my life," Ape Bates said.
"Neither have I," Happy Bronstein said. "But I've never been in a Stateside head yet that something hadn't. And it's a damned safe thing it wasn't any chimpanzee."
Dr. Bedoian said, "I have an idea."
He went to the outer door, opened it. The three security men had been joined by two more, different in size and coloration, but identical in attitude. "Gentlemen, I have been unable to persuade Pan Satyrus to talk. In fact, he is distinctly nervous. He resents having you guard the door of his chamber."
Pan Satyrus promptly swung up to the chandelier, hung by one hand, and started beating himself on the chest with the other. Happy Bronstein retreated nervously to the window.
"Sorry, doctor, we have your orders," MacMahon said. "And you do, too. Make that chimp talk."
"How?" Dr. Bedoian asked.
"Isn't there something called truth serum?"
"Do I tell yon how to give loyalty oaths? I am a physician, Mr. MacMahon and as such I don't take clinical suggestions from laymen."
One of the new arrivals got up. "You're not a vet?" he asked.
"I studied the human being, Homo sapiens, seven years before graduating to the other primates-"
At this point the chandelier came loose from the ceiling; the planners and electricians and plasterers of the Floridaville House had not anticipated gymnastic chimpanzees in their commercial suite. The five security men went for their guns. Pan Satyrus landed agilely on his feet, still holding the chandelier, from which ancient wires now sprouted like whiskers on a hog's jowl.
Ape Bates was inspired to bark, "Stow them guns! They bother Mr. Satyrus!" He had been a petty officer much longer than any of the young men had been security men; they stowed their guns.
The phone began ringing. Happy Bronstein answered it. He said, "Yeah," once in a while and "naw!" once in a while and then he hung the phone up. "Management. Want to know what's what. The juice has gone off all over the house."
"As the only authority on the pongidae present," Dr. Bedoian said, "I can assure you that it is not the government's habit to house chimpanzees in a structure as flimsy as this. I'd suggest that you do as my patient suggests and retreat, leave him to calm his nerves."
Pan Satyrus took this as a cue to advance upon MacMahon, waving the wiry end of the lighting fixture under the FBI man's chin. MacMahon stood his ground, till Pan Satyrus added what he could remember of the Bastard King of England to the act. He was not well equipped musically.
MacMahon was a brave man, though. He whipped out his notebook, glanced at his wristwatch and wrote. Then he held the ballpoint pen (gold) and the notebook out to Dr. Bedoian. Your responsibility, doctor. General Maguire said you were to take charge of the. the patient, and we were to cooperate."
Dr. Bedoian signed. The five pairs of cops' feet went down the splintery stairs in a clatter.
"I suspect I am a traitor to my country," the doctor said.
Pan Satyrus threw the chandelier into a corner of the room. Glass tinkled.
"Okay," Ape Bates said, "get on the horn, Happy."
"What for?" Happy asked.
"Dames," Ape said. "Tell the hotel to send up four dames. Whatya think the doc got rid of the G-men for? He's been itchy ever since we brought the subject up."
"Have I?" Dr. Bedoian asked. "Yes, I guess I have. Of course, that's why I sent those white-collar cops away. I just didn't realize it."
CHAPTER FIVE
Apes, like men, have no fails.
Living Animals, Hilary Stebbing, London, No Date.
It was obvious that the bellboy who answered Happy's phone call was not the first bellboy with whom the radioman had dealt. It was also obvious that Happy was not the first sailor with whom the bellboy had had dealings. He got the word at once.
They had moved into the sample room, no longer cluttered with law officers.
The bellboy went away, and Pan Satyrus sat moodily for a moment, and then went into the bedroom. Dr. Bedoian found him there, inspecting the wires that gaped from the chandelier socket. "What's the matter, Pan?"
Pan shook his head, and went over to the window and its uninspiring view of Floridaville, "Not a thing, doctor. I feel fine."
"I didn't think you were ill. I've been your doctor a long time; I can tell when you're going to come down with something long before you know it yourself. But you're depressed. Why?"
Pan put his knuckles on the floor and pivoted around on them. "Happy ordered a girl for me, too."
Dr. Bedoian smiled. "Yes. I think our two friends have completely forgotten you aren't another sailor."
"I ought to be pleased. They are very nice, for humans."
Dr. Bedoian moved quietly around the patient until he had the window at his back and the light shining in Pan's eyes. He said, "What, then?"
Pan Satyrus looked at the floor. He shuffled his huge feet and drummed on the splintery boards with his knuckles, lightly. "I don't like girls," he said.
"How do you know? You never had one, did you?"
The primate's eyes glowered. "Of course not." Then Pan Satyrus smiled. "That isn't very flattering to your species, is it?"
"That's all right, Pan. I don't like girl chimpanzees, and before you ask, I have never known any except patients. And if you don't know about the Hippocratic oath, this is not the time to go into it."
Pan sat down on the floor and absent-mindedly began stroking the back of his neck with his toes. "But Ape and Happy are my friends. I don't w
ant to ruin their party, nor hurt their feelings."
Dr. Bedoian kept his face grave. "You won't. The length of time those lads have been at sea, they'll gladly take your lady off your hands. And mine. I'm engaged to a girl over in Tarpon Springs."
As the doctor had before, Pan Satyrus asked, "Well, then?"
"It's fun to talk with tarts, get drunk with them, kid them along. You'll see."
"I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings. I'm not human, you know."
"Ouch," Dr. Bedoian said. "Stop thinking about General Maguire and relax. I think our guests are here."
They were, indeed. From the sample room came twitterings and giggles, and thumps as a crew of men delivered a case of gin, two of beer and a big chunk of ice in a bucket.
"Come on," Dr. Bedoian said.
Pan Satyrus sighed and followed his physician to the rendezvous with destiny.
There were four of the girls, in various states of girlishness — from a long twenty-five to a short forty. Their hair was universally blonde, and three of them — Dotty, Flo and Millie — wore shorts. Belle had on tailored black slacks, which did little to hide a state of bowleggedness seldom seen in these days of cod-liver oil for the masses.
Dotty and Flo were sitting on Ape's lap; Millie was on Happy Bronstein's and Belle, not to be left out, was leaning on the back of Happy's chair, exploring the area between his shoulderblades with friendly fingers.
She abandoned her anatomic research when Pan and Dr. Bedoian entered, and cried, "Oooh, the skinny one's cute." The skinny one, obviously, was Dr. Bedoian; she skittered forward, patted his cheek and told him he looked like Frank Sinatra.
Ape stood up, a girl under each arm, and announced names. Then he set Flo on her feet, and said, Fan, have an armful of real woman."
Flo said, "I go for you, Shorty," and proceeded to cross to him. "Golly you got muscles," she said. She poked at them. "Hey, you haven't got any shirt on."
She retreated. "I don't like that, for the fellows not to be all dressed when a party is just starting. It isn't gentlemanly."
Happy Bronstein said, "Excuse me," to Millie and placed her on the floor beside his chair. He came over and put an arm around Flo's shoulders. "Pan took his shirt off because he's tired. He went around the world today, out in space."
Flo looked at him suspiciously. "You mean like John Glenn?"
"No," Pan said, "I went the other way. From east to west."
"You got a real nice voice," she said. "I bet you're a college man. I go for college men." Then her eyes got hard again. "I don't believe it. I know you sailors."
"Ask the doc over there," Happy said.
Flo turned slowly to Dr. Bedoian, who was chipping ice vigorously. "You a doctor?"
"Yes, madam. I hope you don't have need of my professional services."
"Did this guy really go out into space today?"
"He certainly did," Dr. Bedoian said.
"Then what's he doing in a dump like Floridaville?"
"Rest and recuperation," Dr. Bedoian said. "Who knows? By tomorrow the President may want to see him. Congress may want him to address a joint session. He needs time off, first."
"You don't talk like a sailor," Flo said, "but you're out with a couple of them."
Dr. Bedoian said, "I'll prove it to you." He looked around the room. The Floridaville House management had provided the sample room with built-in steel racks for the display of dresses, cloaks and suits. He said, "He's had astronaut training. If he wanted to, he could hang from that rack by one finger."
"Aw," Flo countered.
"For God, for country and for the honor of the enlisted men of the U.S. Navy, Pan," Dr. Bedoian said.
Pan Satyrus sighed and shuffled over to the dress rack. It was a little high for him, so he jumped, hooked the index finger of his left hand over the bar, and hung.
Flo said, "Gawsh."
"I ask you," Dr. Bedoian asked her, "could anyone who hadn't had astronaut training do that?"
Ape picked up Dotty and carried her into the bedroom.
Pan dropped to the floor and went over to the case of gin. It was a case of pints, twenty-four of them. He ripped the top off one and tilted it. Then he remembered his manners, and handed the remaining third of a pint to Flo.
"You like to drink, don't you?" she said.
"Only during my periods of rest and recuperation." Pan smiled. 'I'll get you some ice for that, and a glass. I can see you're not the kind to drink out of bottles."
Dr. Bedoian said, "Oh, well played, scion of a noble race."
Pan went and got his girl a glass full of ice.
It was a good party. They got a radio from the desk, and turned it on full blast. When the local police chief arrived, they fed him a pint of gin and carried him to a vacant room down the hall.
Happy danced, in his skivvies, a dance he said he had learned in Buenos Aires. Ape chanted a ballad which he said was a great favorite in Dakar, about twenty years ago.
Ape went into the bedroom with Dotty again and then turned her over to Happy and made a trip with Belle. Thereafter he pronounced himself ready for sea duty again, but Happy, younger, honored Flo and Millie as well. If any of the girls noticed the abstinence of Pan and Dr. Bedoian, she was too ladylike to mention it.
Pan walked around the room on his hands, no great feat for him; but the girls cheered so vigorously that he went around a second time, on one hand, hopping like a pogo stick.
This made him such a great social success that he offered to go around a third time — on both hands-carrying any number of girls on his feet.
The girls wanted to spare him any extra weight, so they removed the two outer of the four garments that each of them wore.
Dr. Bedoian broke into tears because he had forgotten his camera. Happy consoled him by pointing out that the picture would have been suppressed as top secret.
"I suppose it would be," Dr. Bedoian said, cheering up slightly. He pointed to Pan, who was causing the girls to giggle by pinching them with his toes. "After all, neither of the Wright boys, or Curtiss or Lindbergh, or any of the human astronauts ever carried four girls on his feet. I could swear to it."
"Pan's a great guy to have on a party," Happy said.
The great guy had ended his first burdened tour near the gin case. Standing on one hand again, he passed pints up to the girls with the other. Then he gulped a pint for himself.
"Doc," Ape asked, "how much gin can a chimpanzee drink?"
"Shhh," Dr. Bedoian said. "None of the girls has noticed he's a chimp. I imagine when they were younger they must have worked the convention parties up the coast. Why, Ape, nobody knows. At the going rate for good laboratory animals, it is not an experiment that has ever been performed, and I am fully aware that I should have my stethoscope and sphygometer out, testing our patient at regular intervals and taking notes. But I long ago reached a conclusion — I am lecturing."
"Go on," Happy said, "a little education isn't going to ruin the U.S.N."
"The tolerance for liquor goes up as the happiness-index of a party does," Dr. Bedoian said. "That is what I have observed. In other words, if you're having a lousy time, three drinks and you're blotto. If you're enjoying yourself, you can't get too many."
"For a guy who's gone to college, you're pretty smart," Happy said.
Ape's voice went into the growl of a Master CPO. "The doc's a good guy. Lay off."
"Aye, aye, Chief."
""You, Pan," Ape said, "loan me a dame."
He was dressed in his skivvy shirt and gray pants, his black shoes. He took the beautifully shined shoes off, and placed them neatly to one side, out of the line of march. Then he flexed his back, spat on his hands and stood on them.
"You, Flo, go sit on Ape's feet," Pan said.
"Aw," Flo said, "I like the way yours tickle."
Pan was stern. "Go on, now. We're going to race."
Dr. Bedoian muttered something about Ape being somewhat more than young, but the chief was on his hands, sw
inging his knees back and forth, determining the correct posture for endurance and speed.
Flo had dismounted from Pan's feet, and was crossing to Ape, but she was not happy. "Us girls all come together, and we like to stay together," she said. Tears trailed down her already-smudged makeup. "I don't like leaving my friends."
"Chemically speaking," Dr. Bedoian said to Happy Bronstein, "I should be making an analysis of those pearly drops. Science is losing out all around tonight. It may be the first time a lady has cried pure gin."
"Knew a dame in Rio who never drank anything but rum," Happy said. "No water, tea or coffee. Just rum. Dark rum. Pharmacist's Mate said she couldn't live, but every time we made that port there she was, still drinking rum."
"Fascinating," Dr. Bedoian said. "Sometimes I wish I could live forever, so I could explore all the things science hasn't time for., Look at friend Ape."
IS the chief had had a hammer and sickle tattoed on his cheek, his face could have flown at the masthead of any ship in the Soviet's Navy. But, knees up, and bent to make a comfortable palanquin for the no-longer tearful Flo, he was puffing around the floor, losing ground to Pan at every shuffle, but losing it gracefully.
As Pan went into the stretch, Ape was only a wall behind.
Nobody heard the door of the sample room open, just as nobody had thought to lock it. The first they knew of anything was when an authoritative voice barked, "Ten-hut!"
The race died, unresolved. But then, nobody had been betting anything more valuable than a drink of the communal gin.
Since the Navy does not ordinarily bark at CPOs, Ape did not lose his head, his balance, or the girl on his feet. He lowered her gently to the ground, stood up, and rendered a long-time sailor's sloppy version of Attention.
"You a sailor?" General Billy Maguire asked. "If so, salute."
"I ain't covered, sir," Ape said.
"All right, all right," the general barked. "Watch your tongue, man. And you, doctor — consorting with enlisted men, are you?"
"I'm a civilian doctor," Dr. Bedoian said.
Pan gave each of the three girls a farewell pinch and lowered them to their feet. Then he did a couple of somersaults which brought him face to face with the general.
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