Asprin, Robert - Phule 06 by Asprin Robert

Author:Asprin, Robert [Asprin, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-10-30T02:49:49+00:00

“You’re a genius, Soosh.”

‘Thanks, I guess,“said Sushi. ”Only problem is that my face is going to be all over tri-vee. If Beeker or the captain sees the local news, they’re likely to figure out what we’re doing here. And if the wrong cop happens to spot me, I could end up in some back room figuring out how to an-swer hostile questions about greebfap.“

Do-Wop scoffed. “No problem, we disguise you, is all. A fake beard and some dark shades oughta do the job… or maybe some kinda big hat…”

“Yeah, right, I carry that stuff with me all the time. What are you going to do, go out to the local disguise store? I wouldn’t be surprised if the cops have your face in their files, too. They had robots taking pictures all dur-ing that riot. And unless they’re really stupid, they’ll be running comparisons with the passport pictures from spaceport arrivals. They probably already know exactly who we are.”

“Nofreakin‘ way ,” said Do-Wop. “My passportpic don’t look anything like me, and I bet yours don’t, either.”

“Mine’s a lot uglier than I am,” agreed Sushi. A tired grin came onto his face. “But yours couldn’t possibly be…”

Sushi ducked as Do-Wop took a swing at him. “OK, sorry,” he said. “Still, we’ve got this problem of suddenly being way too visible. And we still need to figure out where the captain is, so we can keep him out of trouble-and help him find Beeker, so we can go back to Zenobia.”

“Well, one thing we know about the captain-he ain’t cheap. Just find out what the best hotel on the planet is- I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that’s where the captain’s staying.”

Sushi’s mouth fell open. “Partner, you just earned your-self a whole basket of donuts. That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day. And it wasn’t even mine.”

Do-Wop grinned evilly. “Yeah, well, I’ll pass on the donuts. Just remember this the next time you think you can diss your buddy. When they handed out the street smarts, us Italians was standing right by the flagpole. And you can tell that to the Marines.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Sushi. “So why don’t we go downstairs and see if our host will feed us breakfast-and maybe tell us about the local hotels?”

“Now you’recomin‘ up with the good ideas,” said Do-Wop. “Lead the way, Soosh.” Together they headed out the door; somewhere downstairs they could already hear a cof-feemaker bubbling away. It was shaping up as a good morning, after all.

Just before noon, Phule took the dropshaft down to the lobby and entered the hotel bar, where he had agreed to meet Perry Sodden, tracer of missing persons, for business-and lunch. He took a corner booth away from other customers and ordered a pint of Old Rot’n‘art IPA, which the locals firmly believed to be the finest beer in the galaxy. Phule knew better, but ordering anything else was practically guaranteed to start an argument with the robot waitress. He didn’t need the attention, so he took a sip of the thin, sour-tasting brew and suppressed a shudder.

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