Tuning William - Fuzzy Bones

The uniformed man who entered Grego's office shut the door behind himself.

That figured. Anything important enough to bring Harry Steefer over in person must be pretty confidential. The Company Police Chief was not a messenger boy.

"Afternoon, Harry," Grego said, motioning him to a chair. "What is it?"

Steefer could not conceal the fact that he was pleased about something. "We've finally done it, Victor. We have penetrated the ZNPF. Our man has managed to wangle himself an assignment to the liaison patrol up there in Fuzzy Valley where all those Marines are milling about."

"What has he found out?" Grego asked.

"Precious little, so far," Steefer replied, handing over a slender folder,

"but there's more there than meets the eye."

Grego lighted a cigarette, flipped open the folder, and absently scratched his Adam's apple as he looked over the report.

"The very fact that he can't find out anything means there's plenty worth finding out," Grego said. "Uh-the Colonial Investigations Bureau doesn't know about him, do they?"

Steefer grinned. "Course not. Then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it?"

Steefer was no sooner out the door than Grego's private screen chimed. He keyed it on. "Why, hello, Christiana," he said. "You're looking lovely this afternoon."

"Thank you, Mr. Grego," she said, slightly flustered. It was her normal reaction to a compliment-especially one from Victor Grego. Then she frowned slightly. "I was wondering, Mr. Grego, if I could have the afternoon off. I-I have some things to attend to."

"Where's Diamond?" Grego asked.

She brightened. "Oh, he's over at Company House, playing with Flora and Fauna.

I'll be back in time to get him."

Grego held up a hand. "No need, my dear. I 'm going over there, myself, as soon as I can break away from here. I'll bring him back home. You take as long as you like."

"Thank you, Mr. Grego," she said.

"Christiana," Grego said. "Are you all right? I mean, is anything wrong?"

"Oh, no," she said. "I-I guess I just have my mind on my errands."

"Dinner?" he asked.

"I don't know how long I'll be," she said. "I'll screen you, either at Governor Rainsford's or at home."

"Okay," he said and blanked the screen.

It was a dingy, gray afternoon, with a misting rain coming from the overcast sky and slanting across Mallorysport. The esplanade was practically deserted.

Christiana held up the collar of her coat against the rain and the chilly wind that was driving it.

What was she going to do? Sooner or later the man in the hat was going to wise up that she was giving him pretty innocuous information, with just enough important nuggets in it to keep the charade going. She couldn't-betray Grego, and yet she couldn't go on like this. It made her feel dirty. She couldn't risk letting him find out about her past. She might lose him. That made her feel dirty, too.

The rain started coming down harder as she ducked in through the door of the La Rondo.

Chapter 32

The entry door chimed. Ben Rainsford came out of his kitchen, drying his hands on a towel he had pulled through the belt of his bush-jacket. He had tried having someone else cook and wash up for him, but they just never got things quite the way he wanted them, and they were never around when he was trying to find something for himself. The fits of temper he got into trying to find where the cook had hidden his favorite paring knife just weren't worth whatever the convenience was supposed to be.

Rainsford opened the door, then extended his hand. "Victor," he said. "How nice to see you."

"Yes," Grego said, shaking hands. "I might say the same, Bennett. We ought to get together more often."

Rainsford's face took on a mournful look. "If we ever get a minute to ourselves," he said. "I imagine you have just as many chucklewits running to you these days as I do; dithering over some problem they could solve themselves if they 'd just stop and think it out."

"Amen to that," Grego said, stepping into the foyer. He reached down and

tugged lightly at the towel. "Doing a little surgery, are you?" he asked.

"Just tidying up in the kitchen," Rainsford said as he pulled the towel free and draped it over one shoulder.

Grego's eyebrows went up. "How do you find the time to do your own housekeeping?" he asked.

Rainsford explained the entropy factor of it, then added, "I have a woman come in to clean and dust once a week. We have an understanding. She doesn't touch my desk or anything in the kitchen except the floor, and I give her money."

Rainsford was about to say something else when they were suddenly overrun by Fuzzies. Even when there were only three of them it sometimes seemed like a hundred Fuzzies.

"Heyo, Pappy Vic," Diamond whooped joyously. "What make do?" He braced himself and slid the last several feet on the foyer's highly-polished floor, then clamped his tiny arms around Grego's leg to regain his balance.

Flora and Fauna were in hot pursuit, howling noisily. "Heyo, Unka Vic. Heyo!

Heyo, Pappy Ben. You no say Unka Vic come."

Rainsford gathered them both in his arms and picked them up. "Pappy Ben forgot," he said. "Pappy Ben, Unka Vic have Big One talk to make. How about Extee-Three? So-siggo esteefee?"

"Hoksu fusso," they shrieked in delight. "Bizzo-asho. Esteefee! Nozzo so-siggo esteefee." With that, they both leaped from Rainsford's arms, tumbled end over end on the floor a couple of times until they got their footing, and all three scampered into the kitchen.

Grego winced. At first it looked as though they were going to break their necks.

"How about you, Victor?" Rainsford said, as he turned toward the kitchen. "You care for some tosh-ki waji? It's a good half hour before my guest arrives."

"At this point," Grego said, "I think a cocktail is a wonderful idea."

Since they weren't in the habit of running everywhere they went, it took Rainsford and Grego a bit longer to reach the kitchen. The Fuzzies were hopping up and down in eager anticipation. Rainsford had taught them early-on not to climb on things in the house without permission.

"Where's Christiana?" Rainsford asked as he opened a cupboard and rummaged around for one of the familiar blue-labeled tins.

"Yes," Diamond demanded. "Why no Auntie Ki'stanna?"

"She had some errands to run," Grego said, half to Rainsford and half to Diamond, "and, since I was coming over anyway, there wasn't any reason for both of us to make the trip." Diamond's face took on a pouting look. "We'll likely see her later this evening," he said to Diamond. "Now have your esteefee treat."

Rainsford set the tin on the counter with a plate, and a knife for dividing it.

"Bizzo so," Flora and Fauna clamored, waving their arms for Diamond to hurry.

In what was obviously a well-rehearsed drill, Flora and Fauna laced their

fingers together into a stirrup, so Diamond could get a leg up and climb onto the counter top.

He expertly ran the can through the opener and sliced it into manageable portions almost faster than the eye could follow. And why not? A table knife is not so much different from a steel shoppo-diggo. Diamond handed the plate down to Flora and Fauna, picked up the empty tin and its lid, walked to the end of the counter, and dropped it in the trash. He glanced at the two Terran humans and made a slight but decisive movement of his head-as if to say, "See what good house manners I have?" He picked up three tiny plastic tumblers, which used to be two-ounce measuring cups, nested them together, and tossed them down to Fauna. He jumped off the counter with a squeal of glee, landed lightly on the floor, and all three of them went pelting back out onto the south lawn, where they would fill the water cups at the fountain and make Fuzzy-talk while Ben and Vic made Big-One talk.