Warsprite by Jefferson P. Swycaffer

Author:Jefferson P. Swycaffer [Swycaffer, Jefferson P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-14T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Well before eight in the morning, the newsmen began to arrive. Newspapermen came first, driving up in rugged old automobiles. Later, closer to their eight-o’clock appointment, the camera crews pulled in, in vans tightly packed with electronic equipment.

Grant greeted them all, waving and making such grand theatrical gestures that one would think him the master of ceremonies at a state luncheon. The photographers took a few snapshots of him to be polite.

Inside the museum, while Madeline kept Officer Pruitt distracted, Sam coached Delta in the most current robot etiquette. In a quiet niche behind a towering map cabinet, they stood where none could see them. Sunlight filled the upper half of the building and filtered down softly to the floor.

“You have to talk stiffly,” he explained. “Talk...like...this...”

Delta turned her peculiarly blank face to him. “Why?”

Sam flushed. “It’s what they expect. It really is best if we try to attract the least possible attention.”

“By...talking...like...this?” Delta thought for a moment. “But it sounds so foolish.”

“That was good. But you have to keep it up. And more nasal.”

“More what?”

Sam looked at her. She didn’t have a nose. “More atonal.”

“Like...this?”

“Yep.”

“Very well.”

“More. You have to walk stiffly, too.” Sam demonstrated a locked-knees robot gait.

Delta laughed, sounding utterly human. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Sam!”

“If you walk like a zombie and talk like an addlepated fool, then people might believe that I built you. There’s no way they’ll ever be able to accept your actual sophistication.”

“Oh, Sam.” She bowed elegantly, then took up a stiff, jerky pace, her arms swinging stiffly as she walked. She looked so utterly like a toy robot that Sam was hard pressed to stifle laughter.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?”

“No.” Sam bit his lips.

“Yes. You do.”

“Well...” He came to her and hugged her. “Yes. I’m afraid I do.”

“Perhaps it is.” She smiled. “Very well. But Officer Pruitt has seen me behaving naturally. Won’t he make unwanted deductions?”

“Grant tells me that the man has never made a deduction in his life.” Sam stepped back and paced up and down for a few moments. “I’m less certain. He’s a policeman, and that means he’s observant. But he’s young...”

“So are you,” Delta noted, “and you’re very definitely observant.”

Sam grinned at her saucily. “You’re younger than I am.”

She drew herself up in haughty pride. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Together they went out into the museum. Madeline wheeled out in her antique three-wheeled chair and looked them over. After a moment, Sam began to become uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

“You fit together,” she said at last. “I perplex, only at first. You two have sense of fitness.” She smiled and adjusted her glasses. “Shall we go and tell big lies to newspaper cameras?”

“Yes,” Delta said softly, “I think that’s best.”

Sam looked around. “Where’s Pruitt?”

“Hiding in back, combing his hair, knowing newsmen will have photography. He thinks of himself on front page of the newspapers.” Her voice was bitter. “Grant has more dignity.”

“What will we tell him?” Delta wondered.

“Something like the truth,” Sam said.

#

On the front steps of the museum, the press stood in packed array.

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