"They tell me there are no bandits in that area. We ran into some rather unfriendly strangers. Our losses were three dead, two wounded. We fetched 'em back."
"Yes, I saw. Do you want a receipt for your expense account? For a crown I'll make out a real sincere one, itemized for whatever amount you say. And I have three messages for you."
I blinked stupidly. "How? Nobody knew we were coming to your hotel. We didn't know it ourselves."
"No mystery, chum. A stranger comes in the north lock late at night, it's a probable seven to two he'll wind up in my bed- one of my beds and no smart remarks, please." She glanced at her terminal. "If you hadn't picked up your messages in another ten minutes, backups would have gone to all inns in the pressure. If that failed to find you, the selectman for public safety might start a search. We don't get handsome strangers with romantic adventures too often."
Gwen said, "Quit waggling your tail at him, dearie; he's tired. And taken. Hand me the printouts, please."
The hotel manager looked coldly at Gwen, spoke to roe:
"Chum, if you have not yet paid her, I can guarantee you something better and younger and prettier at a bargain price."
"Your daughter?" Gwen inquired sweetly. "Please, the messages."
The woman shrugged and handed them to me. I thanked her and said, "About this other something. Younger, possibly. Prettier, I doubt. Can't be cheaper; I married this one for her money. What are the facts?"
She looked from me to Gwen. "Is that true? Did he marry you for your money? Make him earn it!"
"Well, he says he did," Gwen said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. We've been married only three days. This is our honeymoon."
"Less than three days, dear," I objected. "It just seems longer."
"Chum, don't talk that way to your bride! You're a cad and a brute and probably on the lam."
"Yes. All of that," I agreed.
She ignored me, spoke to Gwen: "Dearie, I didn't know it was your honeymoon or I wouldn't have offered that 'something' to your husband. I bow in the dust. But later on, when you get bored with this chum with the overactive mouth, I can arrange the same for you but male. Fair price- Young. Handsome. Virile. Durable. Affectionate. Call or phone and ask for Xia-that's me. Guaranteed-you must be satisfied or you don't pay."
"Thanks. Right now all I want is breakfast. Then bed."
"Breakfast right behind you across the corridor. Sing's New York Caf6.1 recommend his Hangover Special at a crown fifty." She looked back at her rack and picked out two cards. "Here're your keys. Dearie, would you ask Sing to send me over a grilled Cheddar on white with coffee? And don't let him charge you more than a slug and a half for a Hangover Special. He cheats just for fun."
We parked our baggage with Xia and crossed the corridor for breakfast. Sing's Hangover Special was as good as Xia claimed. Then at last we were in our suite-the bridal suite;
Xia had again done right by us. In several ways. She led us to our suite, watched while we oohed and ahed-bubbly in an ice bucket, coverlet turned back, perfumed sheets, flowers (artificial but convincing) picked out by the only light.
So the bride kissed her and Xia kissed the bride, and they both sniffled-and a good thing, too, as a lot had happened too fast and Gwen had had no time to cry. Women need to cry.
Then Xia kissed the groom, and the groom did not cry and did not hang back-Xia is an oriental stack such as Marco Polo is said to have found in Xanadu. And she kissed me most convincingly. Presently she broke enough for air. "Whew!"
"Yes, 'Whew!'" I agreed. "That deal you mentioned earlier- What do you charge?"
"Loud mouth." She grinned at me, did not pull away. "Cad. Scoundrel. I give away free samples. But not to bridegrooms." She unwound herself. "Rest well, dears. Forget that thirteen o'clock deadline. Sleep as long as you wish; I'll tell the day manager."
"Xia, two of those messages called for me to see people at an ugly cow-milking hour. Can you switch us out?"
"I already thought of that; I read those before you did. Forget it. Even if Bully Bozell shows up with all his Boy Scouts, the day manager won't admit knowing what suite you are in."
"I don't want to cause you trouble with your boss."
"Didn't I say? I own the joint. Along with BancAmerica." She pecked me quickly and left.
While we were undressing, Gwen said, "Richard, she was waiting to be asked to stay. And she's not the wide-eyed virgin little Gretchen is. Why didn't you invite her?"
"Aw, shucks, Maw, I didn't know how."
"You could have unpeeled her cheong-sam while she was trying to strangle you; that would have done it. There was nothing under it. Correction: Xia was under it, nothing else. But Xia is a-plenty, I'm certain. So why didn't you?"
"Do you want to know the truth?"
"Uh... I'm not sure."
"Because I wanted to sleep with you, wench, with no distractions. Because I am not yet bored with you. It's not your brain, and not your spiritual qualities of which you almost don't have any. I lust after your sweaty little body."
"Oh, Richard!"
"Before we bathe? Or after?"
"Uh... both?"
"That's my girl!"
XIV
"Democracy can withstand anything but democrats."
J. HARSHAW 1904-
"All kings is mostly rapscallions.**
MARK TWAIN 1835-1910
While we were bathing I said, "You surprised me, hon, by knowing how to herd a rolligon."
"Not half as much as you surprised me when it turned out that your cane was a rifle."
"Ah, yes, that reminds me- Would it bother you to cover for me?"
"Of course not, Richard, but how?"
"My trick cane stops being a protection when people know what it is. But, if all the shooting is attributed to you, then people won't learn what it is."
Gwen answered thoughtfully, "I don't see. Or don't understand. Everybody in the bus saw you using it as a rifle."
"Did they, now? The fight took place in vacuum-dead silence. So no one heard any shots. Who saw me shoot? Auntie? She was wounded before I joined the party. Only seconds before but we're talking about seconds. Bill? Busy with Auntie. Ek-aterina and her kids? I doubt that the kids saw anything they understood, and their mother suffered the worst shock a mother can; she won't be much of a witness, if at all. Dear Diana and her fancy boys? One is dead, the other was so mixed up that he mistook me for a bandit, and LAdy Dee herself is so self-centered that she never understood what was going on; she simply knew that some tiresome nonsense was interfering with her sacred whims. Turn around and I'll scrub your back."
Gwen did so; I went on: "Let's improve it. I'll cover for you instead of you covering for me."
"How?"
"My cane and your little Miyako use the same caliber ammo. So all shots came from the Miyako-fired by me, not by you- and my cane is just a cane. And you are my sweet, innocent bride who would never do anything so grossly unladylike as shooting back at strangers. Does that suit you?"
Gwen was so long in answering that I began to think that I must have offended her. "Richard, maybe neither of us shot at anybody."
"So? You interest me. Tell me how."
"I am almost as unanxious to admit that I carry a gun as you are to admit that your cane has unexpected talents. Some places are awfully stuffy about concealed weapons... but a gun in my purse-or somewhere on me-has saved my life more than once and I intend to go on carrying one. Richard, the reasons you gave for believing that no one knows about your cane apply also to my Miyako. You're bigger than I am and I had the window seat. When we crouched down, I don't think anyone could see me too well-your shoulders are not transparent."
"Hmm. Could be. But what about bodies with slugs in them? Six point five millimeter longs, to be precise."