That wasn’t what Giyt wanted at that moment. He was wet and sweaty and his arms were tired from holding back the kick of the water cannon. What he wanted most of all was to go home and take a shower. He didn’t do well on the quiz, and when Hoak Hagbarth strolled in in the middle of it, Giyt looked to him for a diversion.
It didn’t work that way. “For Christ’s sake, Giyt,” Tschopp exploded. “Pay attention!”
“He don’t catch on real fast, does he?” offered Maury Kettner, watching.
“He does not,” Tschopp agreed in disgust. “What’s the matter, Giyt? You too busy playing those little bedtime games with your lady to study?”
That was going farther than Giyt was prepared to accept, but as he was tensing to reply Hagbarth cut in. “Now, now,” he said mildly, “watch how you talk about somebody that’s about to become a mother, Wili. Come on. Tell Evesham here you’re sorry.” Tschopp looked rebellious, but muttered something that might have been an apology. “Now, that’s better. Are you through with the mayor? Because I need to talk to him about something.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just jerked his head toward the chief’s office. As the two of them entered, Giyt asked, “How did you know Rina was pregnant?”
“Oh, hell, Evesham.” Hagbarth smiled. “Everybody knows everything around here, didn’t you know that? Except about the freaks. They keep a lot of secrets from us.” He closed the door on the man who was the office’s rightful occupant. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, set with a topaz—obviously fake—the size of a pigeon’s egg. “There’s a recorder in the stone, Evesham. What I’d like you to do, I’d like you to just wear it next time you see Mrs. B., and maybe get her to talk a little more about what armaments they’ve got—”
Giyt stared at him. “You want me to spy on her?”
“I wouldn’t call it spying, exactly,” Hagbarth protested. “Just for archival purposes, you know? And it’s not that we want to know anything they shouldn’t be willing to tell us anyway—”
“No.”
Hagbarth looked at him incredulously. “You don’t mean that,” he said.
“Actually I do. No. I won’t do it.”
“Christ, Giyt, where’s your patriotism? You could be doing yourself some good, too. You can bet the eeties know everything there is to know about Earth—who knows what kind of spy stuff they had in the drone they sent the portal in? I mean,” he added hastily, “if they did do that, like they say. And we’ve never gotten a ship near any of their planets. Hell, we don’t even know where the Kalks and the Petty-Primes come from! And the scout ships the Huntsville people sent to Alpha Centauri and Delta Pavonis never even reported back—I give you one guess why.”
Giyt frowned. Put like that, it sounded damning. But he. said firmly, “Mrs. Brownbenttalon’s a friend, and I don’t do that to my friends. I’m not going to rat her out for you.”
Hagbarth looked him over in silence for a moment. Then he sighed. “So we might as well pack it in,” he said. “I guess your principles do you credit.”
But Giyt was quite sure he didn’t mean it. What Hagbarth meant, what the tone of his voice said for him, was I’m going to remember this.
XVIII
The star Delta Pavonis, which at a distance of some eighteen light-years is one of our Sun’s nearest neighbors, has long been known to have planets, some of which were suspected of bearing life. That is why the extrasolar exploration team based at Huntsville, Alabama, directed one of its first probes toward that system. That probe was lost. (So was the one directed toward Alpha Centauri.) It wasn’t until the first humans arrived on Tupelo that it was confirmed that planets of both stars did in fact possess civilizations.
The Delts—as the species from the Delta Pavonis planet are called—are structurally similar to humans, although their triangular skull and independently operating eyes give them a rather bizarre appearance. Biochemically, however, they are quite different. Sulfur is a major constituent of their chemical makeup and their diet, which has an unfortunate effect. Sulfur compounds are notoriously among the most malodorous of chemicals.
Sure enough, Hagbarth didn’t forget. It didn’t take him long .to show it. He appeared on Giyt’s doorstep with a record pad in his hand. He looked both surly and impatient. “Jesus, Giyt,” he said, “did you forget the mayor has to sign off on new housing? I’ve got these places going up to put our people in for the six-planet summit, and I can’t let them be occupied until you do your job.”
Giyt knew that. What he didn’t know was why Hagbarth had come over in person when he could perfectly well have used the net. He signed in silence and handed the plate back to Hagbarth. “Thanks,” Hagbarth said, but he didn’t leave. He eyed Giyt without speaking for a moment, then said, “I don’t guess you’ve changed your mind.”
“About wearing your spy ring? No.”
“All right,” Hagbarth said, apparently doing his best to sound reasonable. “Then how about this? How about showing me how to listen in on Mrs. B.’s private transmissions? You could do that the way you did with the Petty-Primes, right?”
“I could. I won’t, though.”
“Come on, Giyt! I’m not asking you to do it for me personally! It’s for all of us. The Centaurians and all the other freaks will be sending reports back to their home planets. Who knows what they’re really up to? If we could just get a look at what they’re saying to the people back home—”
Giyt shook his head firmly. “No.”
“Christ, Giyt!” Hagbarth’s tone was both anger and disgust. “Maybe I’ve misjudged you. You sure don’t live up to your stats.”
Giyt felt a warning tingle. “When were you looking at my stats?”
“I’ve been looking at a lot of things, Giyt. It’s a funny thing, though. There’s not much documentation for you.”
And how did you know that? Giyt asked, but not out loud. Anyway, he was pretty sure he knew the answer. From his base on Tupelo, Hagbarth didn’t have the facilities to make enough of a search in Earth records to be inconvenient. There was only one other possibility. Someone on Earth had done it for him. Giyt shrugged warily. “There’s been some sloppy record-keeping, I guess.”
“Sure,” Hagbarth said, heavily sarcastic. “Or maybe somebody not so sloppy messing with the records? Somebody who’s pretty good at tinkering with the net? It doesn’t matter, though. There wasn’t much on you, but there was a pretty complete data file on your wife. The lady’s had a really unusual career, hasn’t she?”
Evesham Giyt did not have much experience of anger; he had arranged his life so that there weren’t many occasions for it. Now he felt it, and felt it more strongly than he ever had. He kept his voice controlled. “What are you trying to tell me, Hagbarth?”
“I’m telling you that I’d like the two of you to be a little more cooperative, that’s all.” Hagbarth’s expression was now smug; the son of a bitch was beginning to enjoy himself.
Giyt chose his words with care. “The thing is, Hagbarth, we just don’t like cooperating with scum. Do you understand me? The answer is still no.”
The smugness disappeared from Hagbarth’s face; they locked eyes. Hagbarth was the first to break away.
“Ah, Giyt,” he sighed, “What’s the use? Just remember, I tried to warn you.”
As Rina had reminded him, Evesham Giyt had never had many friends in his days on Earth. But there was another side to that coin. He hadn’t had any enemies either, or at least he hadn’t had any who knew where to find him. While here on Tupelo he definitely had acquired at least one certifiable enemy, and one, moreover, who was prepared to work at it.