Bird moved to a nearby desk and stroked a laptop.
"Uh, I guess you have computer skills right?" she asked.
"Can I work with a LAPTOP?" Bird trilled.
"Of course. You'll do input, track items, order things online. The thing is, though," she looked at Max, "you seem a little young."
"No! I'm fifteen and a half! Here's my work permit!" Thank you, research team for thinking of everything, he thought.
"Yes, the lad is young-looking – he's hitting puberty a little late," said Bird. Max glared at him.
Just then, Nickie's phone rang. "One minute, Mr. Chang," Nickie said into the phone. "I'll check the payment records. She sat at her laptop and pulled up a file marked ACRYLIC WORLD. "Here it is. It shows we made our payment to you on the tenth of last month. I don't know why you haven't received it, but I'll check with my dad right away."
She hung up and sat for a minute, puzzled. "Hmmm, that's the second creditor this week who hasn't been paid," she said. The two detectives exchanged a look.
"Well," Nickie explained, "Dad's been a little preoccupied lately. We're being audited and we have the capsule ceremony coming up so…"
"And when will the capsule be sealed?" asked Max.
"July 24th."
"Eleven days!" moaned Max.
"Well, I know it's short-term work, but you can start tomorrow. And it'll be a fun job! You'll be buying things to put into the capsule."
"Things to represent twenty-first century life," said Bird, rotating the cylinder across his forehead in a dreamlike trance. "Your thoughts, hopes, dreams…"
"Disappointments," said Max.
"Exactly," said Nickie. She gently pried the capsule from Bird's hands. "The things in the time capsule will tell our grandchildren and great-grandchildren what we were like."
"We'd be pleased to assist you," said Bird. "And having lived in other cultures, as we have, we may view your civilization much the way future generations will."
Max smiled at this. "Right. Think of us as the eyes of the future," he said.
Chapter 9
Max rolled his Hello Kitty suitcase over the threshold and tilted it onto one of the narrow twin beds. The neon sign outside the window blinked on and off, giving the cheap motel room a greenish glow.
"Eleven days! How did we get here so early?" he said to Bird, who stood waving his hands at the bare bulb in the ceiling.
"Max, it's like I've told you a hundred times today, sometimes they can't pinpoint the – hey, what's wrong with this light?"
Max went to the light switch and turned it on just as Bird snapped his fingers authoritatively at the bulb.
"There! That did it!" said Bird. He rotated to survey the room's faded, peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet. "You know, I still think we should have gone for the Hilton."
"The guy's not going to die for eleven days," said Max.
"That's great, isn't it? We can really see some sights," said Bird, dumping his backpack, a statuette of the Empire State Building with a tiny ape on top, a yellow taxi keychain, and a Barney poster onto the other bed. "I love you, you love me…" sang Bird. He rolled up his sleeve and admired his three new glow-in-the-dark watches. "All these clocks and watches!" Bird said. "Have you noticed, Max? And almost everyone has one!"
"Well, they haven't got inner time yet, Bird," said Max.
"And they come in plastic, too," raved Bird, stroking the timepieces lovingly. He leaned over to examine the headboard. "Plastic! Wood grain simulated plastic! This stuff's everywhere!" He stretched out on the bed and straightened the green foam Statue of Liberty crown on his head.
"Be careful, Bird, all I need is for you to overdose on me," said Max.
"But the healing powers…if they only knew," said Bird, inspecting the lampshade.
Max mentally scanned his internal calendar. "Maybe I can go back, do the Spinelli sting, then come back here to finish up," said Max. He bounced tentatively on the sagging mattress.
"I don't think so, Max. Once they send you here, they don't want you to leave," said Bird.
"Well, maybe if I can figure out who the murderer is, they'll let me leave you to actually witness the crime."
"Maybe. But I'd still unpack if I were you," said Bird, upending his backpack into a dresser drawer.
Max unzipped his suitcase and lifted out the neatly folded stacks of clothing. Bird wandered into the bathroom and Max heard him snapping his fingers in the dark.
"It's an old-fashioned wall switch," called Max.
"Aha," said Bird. He switched on the light and took in the long, narrow bathroom. "Hey, we could rollerbarrel in here," he said, running two steps and sliding the last slippery three feet of tile until he hit the far wall. The small square box pinned to his belt began to flash.
"Alright, Bluebell," he whispered to the box. He pushed the bottom of the box and directed the bright beam of light into the claw-foot bathtub.
"I know it's cramped and uncomfortable but it'll have to do for now," he told the beast in the tub.
Max turned toward the bathroom. "The way I figure it, since Ted is the Mayor's great-grandfather, one of us should keep him under surveillance," he said. "He's probably our victim."
"Right, Max!" Bird yanked the shower curtain closed and began to play with the sink faucets, turning them off and on.
"Or maybe he's the murderer," stressed Max, walking to the doorway. "We can't make assumptions, okay?" Never assume anything, thought Max. His father had taught him that.
"Right, Max."
Bluebell's thick, shaggy tail swished outside the shower curtain behind Max's back.
"You know, Bird, Ted's company's not paying their bills on time. Maybe they're having money trouble."
"Could be, Max, could be," said Bird, blocking the tail's reflection in the mirror.
"And money's the number one motivation for murder. I wonder if Ted's hiding money. We definitely need to watch him closely."
"I could do the tracking, Max. I like that."
"You like race-tracking, not people-tracking," said Max. " I can't be worrying about you gambling. We've got to honor the Policy of Non-Involvement, remember?"
"This is true. We wouldn't want another little mishap," said Bird, with a twinkle in his eye. Max blushed, remembering his warning to Ted. "But a successful partnership depends on mutual trust, wouldn't you agree, Sergeant?" Bird asked.
Max looked into the open, weathered face of the man sitting on the sink counter before him. I guess I gotta trust him sometime, he thought. What else can I do? "Okay, but stay with him. And no gambling!" said Max.
"You can count on me, Max."
"Then I'll keep an eye on the office for possible suspects," said Max.
"Or victims," said Bird. He swung off the counter and into the bedroom, giving the shower curtain one final closing tug on his way.
"Or victims, right." Max looked into the mirror over the counter. He straightened his paisley headband and shook his head. He sensed that something was wrong with the outfit. A couple of times during the day while they were on the sightseeing tour, he caught people snickering at him.
But maybe they were just laughing at Bird. The way he carried on, pointing to every shop window, poking his nose in the windows of parked cars, and hugging that Elmo character in Times Square! How am I ever going to keep him in line?
Max tugged on his macramé vest. "Bird, you did a lot of looking around today. Do you think there's something wrong with my clothes?"
Bird stood in the doorway and gave Max an appraising once-over. "Weeell, the historical crew who dressed you might have been off-track by a few years," he said. "We need to get you something a little more up to date. I saw a store down the street that looked good. Called The Span or The Breach or something. We'll go right after dinner. I saw this restaurant we'll try-"
"Bird! I warned you at the office – you're taking over a lot!" I'm the one making the rules and the schedule, got it?"
"Got it, boss. So what's the sche
dule for the evening?" said Bird, snapping Max's headband.
"We'll go shopping first, THEN we'll go to dinner!" said Max. He pulled off the headband and shot it like a limp rubber band at Bird's face.
"Brilliant plan! No wonder you're in charge!" said Bird, springing the band back at Max, who dodged and hit the shower curtain.
"PPPPPbbbbbhhhh," a rolling sort of snort rang out from behind the curtain.
"Bird…" said Max warningly.
"She's just a holopet, boss. Doesn't eat much, doesn't take up any room, doesn't-"
Max jerked the curtain open and looked up into the moist, clear eyes of the nine-foot, baby-blue holographic beast.
"A buffalo, Bird? You brought a BUFFALO?"
"She's a beauty, isn't she? Say hello, Bluebell!" The buffalo shook her head and strewed Max's face with holographic drool.
"Biirrrdd! Turn her off!"
"Hey, I can tell she likes you, Max. She doesn't give the drool bath to just anybody, you know."
"Bird!"
"It's an old Native American blessing! Trust me on this! I'll tell you all about it on our way to dinner." He dragged Max by the arm and out the door of the motel room. "Then we'll find that store – The Void or The Gap, no, The Gorge! That's it!"
Chapter 10
Planetary Earth Date: 14.7.2015
She really has a beautiful neck, thought Max. He stared at a tiny tendril of golden red curls that escaped from Nickie's ponytail. He imagined how soft it would feel.
"Okay, Max? Max?" said Nickie.
"Uh, what?" he said. Nickie and Bird were staring at him.
"I said, Mr. Bird can stay here and input donations and you can go out with me to pick up some things. Okay?"
"Yeah, good. Real good," said Max. Cool, Max. Very cool, he thought. Now she's going to think you're a real dizbecile.
A painfully thin woman in silvery spike heels tip-tapped to the entry of their cubicle. "Nickie, dear," she said, "have you written the online press release for your little treasure hunt, yet?"
"It's a time capsule ceremony, Gloria. And no, I haven't done it yet. Powers just asked me to do it this morning."
Max noticed that Nickie's neck became noticeably pinker.
"I know you're inexperienced, Nickie. If you can't handle it, I'll do it for you."
Red, thought Max. Now her neck is definitely red.
"I can handle it, Gloria! You just worry about those overdrafts the bank called about."
"I've already looked into it, dear. Your father just forgot to transfer funds again last month," said Gloria.
Max raised his eyebrows to Bird at this news. Bird raised his eyebrows in imitation, as if Max were playing a game.
"But Dad said you took over paying the vendors," said Nickie.
"Now where would he get an idea like that?" said Gloria. She shifted her weight onto one tiny spike heel and swiveling to leave, noticed the two detectives for the first time. She eyed them curiously through ice blue, half-closed lids.
Max thought she was the strangest-looking woman he'd ever seen. Eight-five pounds of bone and sinew forced into a glittery silver minidress. All topped with a long, platinum bouffant hairdo that was incredibly wide and high at the sides and top, but completely flat at the back. She reminded Max of those illustrations in Grandma's antique Mother Goose books. The one with the dish that ran away with the spoon. She looks like the spoon, thought Max.
"And Nickie, dear, I'm going to need completed insurance forms for these workers by five tonight, so if you can't do it…" Gloria said, taking in the detectives' identical blue and white checked pajama bottoms, orange t-shirts emblazoned with the words The Gap, and Mets baseball caps.
Max squirmed under her gaze. I wish Bird hadn't insisted on wearing the same clothes as me, he thought. At least he didn't wear the cap with the beer cans and attached straws.
"I said I'll do it, Gloria!" said Nickie.
"No need to get into a snit, dear. I'm just doing my job," she said tip-tapping out of the cubicle.
Nickie opened her mouth with a ready reply when Ted called, "Nickie, come over here! We're ready to drink a toast!"
"Our millionth order just shipped today," she explained to Max and Bird. The two watched from the doorway as she joined her father, Gloria, and a man dressed in white trousers, a navy blue blazer and a captain's hat. The Captain's right hand was bandaged in bulky white gauze.
Max watched Ted hug Nickie. "So how old would you say she is?" he asked Bird.
"I don't know. Eighteen. Nineteen."
"Oh. She looks younger."
They watched Ted grapple with a plastic champagne glass. He tried to force the stem of the glass into the base, shattering it. Gloria laughed at Ted's fumbling, placed her long, bony hand on his arm, and handed him a new, assembled glass. Nickie bristled at Gloria's attention and motioned to the two detectives to join her.
The man with the bandage poured the sparkling cider and offered them each a glass. Ted ran his hand through his unruly hair and finished his story.
"It's so strange, though, if it hadn't been for the old lady, that Boy Scout and I would be history."
"Oh, Dad, not that again," said Nickie, blushing. "Dad's been sort of accident-prone lately. Everybody, this is John Look-For-A-Bird and Max Livingstone. They're going to help me get things for the vault."
Ted smiled and shook hands with the two. Max tried not to look at the gaps on his misbuttoned shirt.
"Welcome!" said the Captain. "We run a tight ship but a happy one."
"Fortunately, I brought Dramamine," whispered Bird.
"This is Powers Presnell," said Nickie, pointing to the Captain. "And his secretary, Gloria Steele." Powers offered his left, unbandaged, hand.
"What happened to your hand?" asked Bird.
"He sla-" started Gloria.
"Nautical accident," interrupted Powers. He downed his drink and glanced at his Rolex watch. "Back to work! Captain to the bridge! Full steam ahead!" he said, making shooing motions to everyone.
"Let's go, Max," said Nickie. "Mr. Bird, please get started on inputting that list I gave you. We'll be back after lunch."
Max paused a moment to whisper into Bird's ear, "Remember, trail Ted but don't be obvious. And don't get into trouble!"
"No problem, boss," said Bird. On the way to his cubicle, he jumped up and batted the rump of the red paper mache rat. It spun wildly. "Lookin' good, Big Red!" he said to the rat.
Max gave him a doubtful look, then followed Nickie's beautiful neck out the door.
Later, Nickie checked off an item in her red phone and handed Max the latest purchase, a fishing pole. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he shifted the handles of shopping bags. Gnartz, it's hot, he thought. It must be 33 degrees Celsius. And I'm getting thirsty. Doesn't she ever stop for a break? He stepped under an awning and walked along its shade.
"You okay?" asked Nickie.
"Me? Hey, great!" said Max.
She thinks I'm a shopping cart, he thought. I've followed her on the old-fashioned sidewalks of New York without conveyors or the Uptown Slide for two hours now and I can't get her to even notice me. Try to get her to talk about herself, Max, he thought. But be subtle. And cool.
"So, you married or anything?" he said, cringing to himself. To his amazement, she laughed.
"Right, I'm only seventeen, you know."
He was wrong about her eyes. He had thought they were brown but now in the sunshine, he could see they were more green. Green-brown…what was the word?
"Hazel!" he said aloud. She looked at him like he had lost his mind. Good, thought Max. Very cool.
They were in front of a department store window. Nickie looked from Max to the two dresses in the window. "Oh, I get it, yeah, hazel is a big color for fall."
"That blue one's better," said Max pointing to a sundress.
"Too casual. I need to be taken seriously in the office. But…that blue is so pretty," said Nickie.
"Yep, that's you
r dress, that's the one!" said Max. Why do men always say shopping with women is so difficult, he thought.
"No, definitely inappropriate!" she said dismissing it.
Because shopping is so difficult with women, he thought.
They moved on to the next store, a vacuum cleaner repair. "Should we get a vacuum? I mean will people a hundred years from now use vacuums? Or a Dustbuster or something? What do you think?
"A dust-buster? What does it do? Eliminate the dust molecule, or what?"
"Okay, you're right," she said, smirking. "I guess it isn't a very exciting item."
They walked to an appliance store window. "What do you think about a microwave oven?" asked NIckie.
"You don't really heat your food with microwaves, do you?" Max gasped.
"Quit teasing me," she said.
"I'm not teasing, we just don't have those where I come from. It's, uh, rural," he said.
"Must be REALLY rural," she said, playing along.
She actually is looking at me when I talk, he thought. Don't lose the momentum. Be witty. Be charming. Be cool.
"Where do you come from, Max?"
"Well…" What now? Oh, what the heck, she probably won't believe me anyway, he thought. "I come from another time. In the future," he said.
"Okaaay," she laughed. "Somehow I believe that."
"You really have a nice laugh," he said. Stupid! he thought.
"I know what you're up to, you little dweeb. You're trying to get a raise,"
She has a nice, teasing lilt to her voice, he thought. "Little dweeb? I'll have you know I'm due to shoot up to my projected six feet six inches any day now," he said.
"Well, let me know when it happens and I can jump out of the way!" She grinned and checked her phone. "Do we have time before your spurt for lunch? I'm starved."
He felt the top of his head and stretched up to his full height. "I think we're safe for now. But we'd better make it fast food."
She turned her hazel eyes full on him. "You're weird, Max."
Funny, when she said it, it actually sounded like a compliment.
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