Robert Heinlein - Double Star

Penny covered the microphone. «Do I give my name?»

«Play it straight. We've nothing to hide.»

'This is Mr. Bonforte's secretary,» she said gravely. «Is his pilot there? Captain Broadbent.»

«I know him, dearie.» There was a shout: «Hey! Any of you smokers see where Dak went?» After a pause she went on, «He's gone to his room. I'm buzzing him.»

Shortly Penny said, «Skipper? The Chief wants to talk to you,» and handed me the phone.

«This is the Chief, Dak.»

«Oh. Where are you — sir?»

«Still in the car. Penny picked me up. Dak, Bill scheduled a press conference, I believe. Where is it?»

He hesitated. «I'm glad you called in, sir. Bill canceled it. There's been a — slight change in the situation.»

«So Penny told me. I'm just as well pleased; I'm rather tired. Dak, I've decided not to stay dirtside tonight; my gimp leg has been bothering me and I'm looking forward to a real rest in free fall.» I hated free fall but Bonforte did not. «Will you or Rog make my apologies to the Commissioner, and so forth?»

«We'll take care of everything, sir.»

«Good. How soon can you arrange a shuttle for me?»

«The Pixie is still standing by for you, sir. If you will go to Gate 3, I'll phone and have a field car pick you up.»

«Very good. Out.»

«Out, sir.»

I handed the phone to Penny to put back in its clamp. «Curly Top, I don't know whether that phone frequency is monitored or not — or whether possibly the whole car is bugged. If either is the case, they may have learned two things — where Dak is and through that where he is, and second, what I am about to do next. Does that suggest anything to your mind?»

She looked thoughtful, then took out her secretary's notebook, wrote in it: Let's get rid of the car.

I nodded, then took the book from her and wrote in it: How far away is Gate 3?

She answered: Walking distance.

Silently we climbed out and left. She had pulled into some executive's parking space outside one of the warehouses when she had parked the car; no doubt in time it would be returned where it belonged — and such minutiae no longer mattered.

We had gone about fifty yards, when I stopped. Something was the matter. Not the day, certainly. It was almost balmy, with the sun burning brightly in clear, purple Martian sky. The traffic, wheel and foot, seemed to pay no attention to us, or at least such attention was for the pretty young woman with me rather than directed at me. Yet I felt uneasy.

«What is it, Chief?»

«Eh? That is what it is!»

«Sir?»

«I'm not being the “Chief.” It isn't in character to go dodging off like this. Back we go, Penny.»

She did not argue, but followed me back to the car. This time I climbed into the back seat, sat there looking dignified, and let her chauffeur me to Gate 3.

It was not the gate we had come in. I think Dak had chosen it because it ran less to passengers and more to freight. Penny paid no attention to signs and ran the big Rolls right up to the gate. A terminal policeman tried to stop her; she simply said coldly, «Mr. Bonforte's car. And will you please send word to the Commissioner's office to call for it here?»

He looked baffled, glanced into the rear compartment, seemed to recognize me, saluted, and let us stay. I answered with a friendly wave and he opened the door for me. «The lieutenant is very particular about keeping the space back of the fence clear, Mr. Bonforte,» he apologized, «but I guess it's all right.»

«You can have the car moved at once,» I said. «My secretary and I are leaving. Is my field car here?»

«I'll find out at the gate, sir.» He left. It was just the amount of audience I wanted, enough to tie it down solid that «Mr. Bonforte» had arrived by official car and had left for his space yacht. I tucked my life wand under my arm like Napoleon's baton and limped after him, with Penny tagging along. The cop spoke to the gatemaster, then hurried back to us, smiling. «Field car is waiting, sir.»

'Thanks indeed.» I was congratulating myself on the perfection of the timing.

«Uh...» The cop looked flustered and added hurriedly, in a low voice, «I'm an Expansionist, too, sir. Good job you did today.» He glanced at the life wand with a touch of awe.

I knew exactly how Bonforte should look in this routine. «Why, thank you. I hope you have lots of children. We need to work up a solid majority.»

He guffawed more than it was worth. «That's a good one! Uh, mind if I repeat it?»

«Not at all.» We had moved on and I started through the gate. The gatemaster touched my arm. «Er ... Your passport, Mr. Bonforte.»

I trust I did not let my expression change. «The passports, Penny.»

She looked frostily at the official. «Captain Broadbent takes care of all clearances.»

He looked at me and looked away. «I suppose it's all right. But I'm supposed to check them and take down the serial numbers.»

«Yes, of course. Well, I suppose I must ask Captain Broadbent to run out to the field. Has my shuttle been assigned a take-off time? Perhaps you had better arrange with the tower to “hold.”»

But Penny appeared to be cattily angry. «Mr. Bonforte, this is ridiculous! We've never had this, red tape before — certainly not on Mars. »

The cop said hastily, «Of course it's all right, Hans. After all, this is Mr. Bonforte.»

«Sure, but — »

I interrupted with a happy smile. «There's a simpler way out. If you — what is your name, sir?»

«Haslwanter. Hans Haslwanter,» he answered reluctantly.

«Mr. Haslwanter, if you will call Mr. Commissioner Boothroyd, I'll speak to him and we can save my pilot a trip out to the field — and save me an hour or more of time.»

«Uh, I wouldn't like to do that, sir. I could call the port captain's office?» he suggested hopefully.

«Just get me Mr. Boothroyd's number. I will call him.» This time I put a touch of frost into my voice, the attitude of the busy and important man who wishes to be democratic but has had all the pushing around and hampering by underlings that he intends to put up with.

That did it. He said hastily. «I'm sure it's all right, Mr. Bonforte. It's just — well, regulations, you know.»

«Yes, I know. Thank you.» I started to push on through.

«Hold it, Mr. Bonforte! Look this way.»

I glanced around. That i-dotting and t-crossing civil servant had held us up just long enough to let the press catch up with us. One man had dropped to his knee and was pointing a stereobox at me; he looked up and said, «Hold the wand where we can see it.» Several others with various types of equipment were gathering around us; one had climbed up on the roof of the Rolls. Someone else was shoving a microphone at me and another had a directional mike aimed like a gun.

I was as angry as a leading woman with her name in small type but I remembered who I was supposed to be. I smiled and moved slowly. Bonforte had a good grasp of the fact that motion appears faster in pictures; I could afford to do it properly.

«Mr. Bonforte, why did you cancel the press conference?»

«Mr. Bonforte, it is asserted that you intend to demand that the Grand Assembly grant full Empire citizenship to Martians; will you comment?»

«Mr. Bonforte, how soon are you going to force a vote of confidence in the present government?»

I held up my hand with the wand in it and grinned. «One at a time, please! Now what was that first question?»

They all answered at once, of course; by the time they had sorted out precedence I had managed to waste several moments without having to answer anything. Bill Corpsman came charging up at that point. «Have a heart, boys. The Chief has had a hard day. I gave you all you need.»