Part 3 (2/2)
The sharpness of her tone reminded me that she had good reasons for prejudice, not to say malice. Nevertheless, the possibility she suggested was one that had already occurred to me. After all, the fake lady gym-teacher had been a fairly typical specimen. On the other hand, I reminded myself, we sometimes have to put on some fairly unsavory impersonations in the line of duty. Anyway, their s.e.x life wasn't my worry.
Annette O'Leary said, ”You haven't got a drink around here, have you, dad?”
”Sure. If you don't mind bourbon.”
”It sounds but heavenly-divine. Just between you and me, I'm getting pretty d.a.m.n tired of all the quaint local concoctions of rum and tequila. Have you tried a Coco Loco yet? They serve it in a coconut, using the milk for a mixer, for G.o.d's sake... . Thanks.”
I watched her gulp the drink I handed her, while I sipped at my own more cautiously. Presently she turned to look at me again with suspicion in her eyes.
”You're a fast man with a gla.s.s, dad. And you don't seem to be working very hard on your own. Could it be that you wouldn't mind if I got just a wee bit drunk?”
I said, ”h.e.l.l, you asked for it. If you don't want it, flush it down the John.”
She was watching me closely. ”If I did get just a wee bit drunk, what would you do? Would you take advantage of my inebriated condition, and if so, how? I mean, would you seduce me, or just ask me a lot of silly questions?”
I said, ”I'll be honest with you, Mrs. O'Leary. At the moment you interest me, biologically, just about as much as that chair over there. For seduction, you'd better come back tomorrow or the next day.”
There was curiosity in her look now. ”You mean... you mean killing somebody affects you like that? Oh, I heard Tony-boy talking on the phone about what a trigger-happy character you are. But I always thought a man wanted s.e.x after blood, so to speak. Is it because you made a mistake, or because it was a woman you shot?”
I said, ”O'Leary, you're a ghoul.”
Her greenish eyes were watching me intently, back in the shadow of all that hair. ”Oh, I see! It's not that woman that bothers you, it's the other one who got killed tonight. The one you went for in a big way, so they said. Mr. Helm, is this your quiet way of mourning the dead?”
I grinned. ”You b.i.t.c.h,” I said. ”You need another drink.”
When I came back with it, she was sitting on the end of one of the beds with her shoes off. ”How long does the effect generally last, dad?” she asked, taking the gla.s.s. ”I mean, do you lose your manhood with every dame who dies or goes off and leaves you, and if so, what brings it back and how much later?” She studied me in a speculative, malicious way. ”I bet I could bring it back. Tonight. If I really wanted to. And I've never slept with a killer. It might be fun. cool At least you don't spend half the day combing your peroxide locks, like the other one. G.o.d, I can't stand a man who keeps fussing with his lousy hair.”
I laughed. ”You know, I'm going to miss you if I have to shoot you. You're quite a girl. Well, let's hope n.o.body pushes me into a spot where I have to use the gun. Which reminds me-”
I sat down on the other bed and took out Vadya's automatic and checked it over. I don't ever really trust a weapon that's been loaded by somebody else, even by a pro like Vadya. I heard the red-haired girl make a small sound, like a sigh. She finished off her drink abruptly.
”You win, dad,” she said softly. ”I was trying to needle you, but you topped me. Put the d.a.m.n thing away, please... . Helm?”
”Yes?”
”I'm scared. Do you know that? I'm scared silly. What the h.e.l.l have I got myself into, anyway? Please put it away.”
”Sure, Mrs. O'Leary.”
”Don't keep calling me that. It makes me think of the lady whose cow burned up Chicago. Call me Netta, if you've got to call me something.”
”Sure, Netta. I'm Matt.”
”Hit me again, will you, Matt,” she said, holding out her empty gla.s.s. ”I might as well be good and drunk as the way I am. And if you really have some questions you'd like answered, go ahead and ask.”
Bartending again, I said in what I hoped was a casual tone of voice, ”Okay, if you insist. Just what the h.e.l.l did you see out there on the water that's so d.a.m.ned important?”
”Your prune-faced girlfriend has already taken that story down on tape. Why make me repeat myself?”
”Because some gents in Los Alamos have that tape by now, and I don't really expect them to play it for me,” I said. ”And I'm getting kind of curious about what kind of a yarn you spun for them. Try it on me.”
She looked up at me as I returned with her drink. ”You don't sound very much as if you were planning to believe me.”
Again, it seemed like a situation in which skepticism might be more productive than faith. I said, ”Well, I'm not much for ghost stories. Or science fiction, either. But I'm willing to be convinced.”
Resentment showed in her small, freckled face. She said sharply, ”Well, believe it or not, what I saw was a flying saucer after it had broken down and stopped flying. I saw it right up close, as close as anybody has.”
”Don't give me that,” I said. ”I've read plenty of reports of wild-eyed citizens who've claimed to have been taken right aboard the things. Did you go on board?”
”Well, no,” Netta admitted. ”G.o.d, no! I just scrunched down in my life jacket and tried to look like a piece of flotsam. Or jetsam. They weren't exactly friendly and hospitable, if you know what I mean.”
”No, I don't know, exactly,” I said. ”What did they do to indicate their hostility?”
”They blasted the boat as they came over. Is that hostile enough for you? I'd gone out with Phil and another couple-”
”Phil?”
”A guy I'd met up north of here, in Guaymas. That's where I stayed first in Mexico: The Posada San Carlos, in Guaymas. Nice place. He was there for the fis.h.i.+ng, but it wasn't much good, and he heard it was better down here in Mazatlan, so he decided to drive down. I rode with him. It's a day's drive. He was a pretty nice guy. I don't dig fis.h.i.+ng one little bit, but I don't mind sitting in a boat, watching, as long as there's a shady spot so I don't sunburn too badly. He got another couple to share the expenses. I mean, the boat charter or rent or whatever you call it is pretty steep, something like forty dollars a day. I don't remember their names and it doesn't matter. They're dead and so's Phil. If the ray or whatever it was didn't get them, they were killed when the boat blew up.”
”Ray?” I said, trying to convey a hint of a sneer. ”You mean like in death ray?”
She shrugged. ”Don't ask me what it was. I guess maybe they wanted that piece of ocean all to themselves to land in. I was down in the cabin getting a beer; I didn't know what the h.e.l.l had happened. There wasn't any noise; Just a big shadow pa.s.sing over the boat, and a sudden blast of heat, and flames everywhere. I tried to get back out to where the others were, but the whole c.o.c.kpit or whatever you call it was on fire. I grabbed a life preserver and scrambled out an opening onto the forward deck. It was burning in spots, too; that's how I hurt my arm. I guess it was the gas tanks that blew up, right after I jumped.” She grimaced. ”Then there was just one O'Leary in the water, and some floating wreckage, and this d.a.m.n plativolo, sinking.”
”Plativolo,” I said. ”That's a new name for it. New to me, anyway. You saw it sink?”
Netta nodded. ”Well, I saw the end of it, let's say. They were scrambling around trying to keep it afloat, but they weren't having any luck. And then they blew up, too. Bang, just like that. A great big searing whoosh of flame, like the end of the world. Stuff raining down for minutes, it seemed like. Then I paddled around for a while all alone until somebody came out to investigate the fireworks and picked me up.” She shook her head ruefully. ”I should have kept my trap shut about what I'd seen, I guess. I should have said the boat just caught fire and exploded. Just call me Public-spirited Patsy for short.”
”And that's what all the excitement is about?” I said in a cynical voice. ”h.e.l.l, I've read fancier Youfoe stories in the papers. Complete with little Martians in metallic play suits.” I kept my voice casual. ”You haven't said what they looked like.”
Netta laughed softly. ”So I haven't, dad. That'll cost you another drink.”
”My G.o.d, the girl's got a hollow leg.” I fixed her up again, and stood over her. ”Okay, give.”
She drank from her gla.s.s, and looked up, shaking her head solemnly. ”No, to h.e.l.l with you. You've decided I'm just making it up as I go along. Haven't you? Even if I said they were human, you wouldn't believe me.”
I grinned at her mockingly. ”But they weren't human, were they, Carrots? It wouldn't make as good a story if they were human. They were giant gra.s.shoppers, or little bitty manikins with great big brainy heads and no hair. Come on, O'Leary. Let's hear what you told the tape recorder. Let's hear what that redheaded Irish imagination produced to impress the suckers. I bet it was as good as a TV show: the people from outer s.p.a.ce are upon us; the conquest of Earth begins; E-day is here! Is that it?”
She didn't answer at once. She was getting pretty tight; it showed in her careful movements and owlsolemn expression and unladylike, legs-apart posture, sitting there on the bed. When she spoke again, her voice was thick and the words were slurred.
”d.a.m.n you!” she blurted. ”d.a.m.n you, you think you know everything, don't you? Well, I don't give a d.a.m.n what you think! They were human, d.a.m.n you. They were ordinary human men in ordinary human uniforms, how do you like that? Ordinary U.S. Air Force uniforms! And that overgrown dish they were flying had U.S.A.F. insignia on it. And how do you like that, Killer Helm... . ?”
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