Cruising
Fiction - by Lisa Timpf
“Hey, Quicksilver! We’re cruising!”
Startled, I repressed an instinctive urge to jump backward. My jangled nerves calmed as I recognized Pepper’s voice. I glanced up. Sure enough, there stood the AI-enhanced border collie with whom I had the misfortune to be paired as a battle comrade. “You’re cruising, scaring me like that,” I snapped. I held up my right forepaw, claws extended. “And I already knew. Minna told me.”
“Aren’t you excited?” Pepper halted a prudent distance away—no mean feat given the compressed quarters we shared with our handler, Minna Henderssen.
I turned away so The Dog wouldn’t see my expression. “Excited? Me?” With my face hidden from Pepper’s view, I smiled slyly. Though I’d never confess it to Pepper, I was excited. Two years after giving up my career as a ship’s cat to join the Galactic Space Service, I still felt out of place from time to time. Pepper and Minna had been a team long before I came onto the scene. More as a product of my own ego than any overt gesture on their part, I often felt like an extra cog. A fifth wheel.
But our undercover assignment on the Frederika, one of Silver Starr’s luxury intergalactic liners, would set me on home turf for a change. My first experience as a ship’s cat had been under the tutelage of my mother, aboard the passenger liner Elizabeth. As such, cruise craft sat squarely in my wheelhouse. Since Minna had shared the news about our new mission, my brain had thrummed with a variety of satisfying fantasies, each of which ended up with me showing up The Dog and proving my worth to the team for once and for all.
It seemed that Pepper’s mind had marched along similar lines, perhaps with a less rosy outcome. “I’m worried,” she confessed. I turned back to face her, perplexed. “About Minna. How can I keep her safe when I don’t even—”
“Tut, tut,” I said. “Dismissing my abilities yet again.”
“It’s just—” Pepper shuffled her forefeet, a motion I’d come to identify as displaying extreme anxiety. I eyed her cautiously. “It’s unknown territory. And that scares me.”
“You’ve gone undercover before, yes?” I couldn’t keep a snap of irritation from my voice. If I didn’t watch it, she’d make me nervous too.
“Of course. But that was different.”
“Posh. The only difference is in your mind. Between those too-long ears of yours. You and I will be there to protect her.”
Pepper frowned as I batted a miniaturized camera in her direction. “What’s that for?”
“Part of our cover.” That was true, although what I said next was not. “Minna thought you might go disguised as one of the paw-parazzi.”
Pepper’s lips curled as though she’d chomped down on a mouthful of stale kibble. “That’s not funny.”
Before we could get into an argument, which I knew from experience would get us nowhere, Minna walked in through the door. Pepper, with the nauseating obsequiousness typical of her species, trotted over, tail wagging. I sat on my haunches, tail curled around my forefeet, and waited to be recognized.
“Hey there, you two. Let’s get going. We’ve got lots to do.”
I shot a knowing look at The Dog and continued my preparations, pulling my protective vest out of hiding.
“Oh, you won’t be needing that,” Minna said. That’s when I noticed the shiny emerald green body-vest she clutched in her right hand. I shook my head and took two steps back, sensing rather than seeing Pepper’s superior smirk. “I’m going disguised as an inner-system heiress,” Minna said. “Which means you need to play the role of pampered pet. There’s a jewel-studded collar to match. The green’ll bring out your eyes.”
Minna turned to Pepper. “I wouldn’t give that look, if I were you. We’ve got a red outfit for you, minus the jewelled neck-wear. Everything’s bullet-proof, with a sensor-net integrated in the fabric. Auto-recording, visual and verbal, in real time. Consider it state-of-the-art police wear. Now, hold tight for a moment. I just need to nip off the armory.”
The instant Minna left the room, I pounced on the opportunity. “I’ll look much better in my outfit than you.”
When our small party arrived at the Frederika, I took the lead, tail held proudly. Though none of us lacked in physical fitness, to keep up appearances we opted to take the turbo-lift to F Deck, which housed our assigned quarters.
As was the case in the previous Silver Starr liners I’d served on, the various levels of the ship had different color schemes to aid in easy identification. F Deck, also known as Forest Level, sported light green walls, contrasting with dark green floors and doors. Discrete camera-eyes, their housing painted the same color as the walls to provide camouflage, peered down at us from the ceiling.
As we marched, single file, toward our room, I took it all in. A hand-rail and grab-holds, in case of loss of gravity, lined the walls. Holo-pictures spaced at intervals provided basic decoration. In keeping with the floor’s woodsy theme, a placard beside the door bore the label “Maple Suite.”
To fit with Minna’s alias, we were staying on the top deck, usually reserved for the elite. Our assigned digs promised to be much more luxurious than any accommodation I’d been privileged to occupy while serving as a ship’s cat. I couldn’t wait to get a look. As soon as the door to our cabin retracted into the wall, I shouldered my way past the dog and into the room.
What I saw made me grin in approval. Four times the size of Minna’s quarters on the GSS Meech Lake, the luxury stateroom contained a couch, table, small kitchenette, bedroom, and a washroom.
Pepper trotted over to the couch, eyeing it appraisingly.
“Don’t get any ideas, furball,” I advised her. “No pets allowed on the furniture.”
“I’m not a pet,” she said, pulling her lips down in her best pouty-face. “I’m a decorated Galactic Space Service officer, whose aches and pains in the line of duty make it difficult to sleep.”
Having heard Pepper’s snoring begin seconds after her head touched her sleeping mat most nights, I snorted. “You told me yourself, the best way to be successful as an undercover agent is to stay in character. Which makes you a pet, for now.” I sat on my haunches, allowing the end of my tail to drape over my forefeet, and gave The Dog my most smug look.
“You two’ll sleep over here, as usual.” Minna’s voice came from the bedroom.
“See? Told you.”
“Fine.” Pepper sighed, then drew in a deep breath. “What’s that smell?”
“Besides yourself? It’s lavender, smarty.”
“I knew that. But why?”
“Standard on the Silver Starr lines. It has a calming effect on the passengers. I prefer catnip, myself.”
“It reeks.”
“Not to humanoids. Remember, our noses are much more sensitive than theirs.” I paced over to the coffee table, which was bolted to the floor in case of loss of gravity. “There’s something else you should know about Silver Starr.”
Pepper stared me down for a moment, and I sensed her inner turmoil. It would just about kill her to acknowledge that there existed a subject about which I knew more than she did. Which is why I intended to make her squirm a little. I stood, tail twitching, matching stare for stare. “Of course, if you don’t want me to—”
“Fine,” Pepper grunted. “You’re such an insufferable know-it-all, I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway, so go ahead.”
“It’s something known only to the crew members,” I said, a self-satisfied purr creeping into my voice. “As protection, for them, there’s a distress call button under this table.” I gestured with my nose. “That way, even if signals are jammed, they can get word through to the security team. It’s saved more than one life.”
“How’s it work?” Innate curiosity won out over self-image, as I’d known it would. Pepper sidled over and peered at the furniture’s underside.
“There—that recessed button, see it?” I waited for acknowledgement, then continued. “You press it twice.”
“Like the postman?”
“Mail delivery person, you mean,” I said, glaring. “You make the oddest references, by the way.”
“And you could do with more exposure to culture,” Pepper said, looking down her nose in that way she has.
“Ready, you two?” Minna exited the bedroom and shot us a tight grin. “It’s time we paid the security chief a visit, don’t you think?”
“Whoever they are, they're slick operators.” Wallace Murray, Frederika’s Security Chief, leaned toward the bank of vid-screens that covered the better part of one wall. I drew in a breath approvingly. Here, the smell of coffee overpowered the ever-present lavender taint that hung in the air. I found it an improvement.
“How do you think they might be doing it?” Minna asked, studying the screens with interest.
“We’ve asked ourselves that, many times.” Wallace sighed. “One thing for sure, they case out their potential victims carefully. The best we can figure, they prepare sophisticated duplicates of the target jewelry. That way, when they make the heist, it’s not even noticed until much later. In fact, we didn’t even know of the first cases until one of the passengers disembarked on their home world, and had an item assessed for insurance value. They got a nasty shock, I can assure you. But then there were the other cases—”
Minna nodded. “A few high-value targets would make it all worthwhile. Rumor has it the Nordokan Ambassador’s necklace alone was valued at several times the average wage on some of the outer planets.” She paused. "The thefts alone would be bad enough, but according to a confidential informant, the Syndicate is using profits from the stolen merchandise to purchase weaponry."
“So, what’s the plan for catching them?” Wallace leaned back and studied Minna.
“Bait,” she replied. “Prior to the voyage, the Galactic Space Service developed a fake profile for me on social media. To anyone outside of these walls, I’m Melinda Narwok, heiress to a fortune in black diamond mining on Theta Epsilon. We’ve posted several images of Quicksilver and his gemmed necklace. That should be enough of a prize to catch their attention.”
I took that as my cue to strut forward, displaying the green leather collar with its inset tiger-gems. Heavy enough, but I bore the burden proudly, knowing that it could help us bring down a theft ring. Not to mention, I liked the look of the yellow-and-black stones, the way the green collar set off my grey fur so handsomely—
“Location tracker on it, I presume?” Wallace asked, leaning forward to study the necklace.
“Yes, subtly placed—interwoven between the layers of leather. Though we need to consider the possibility they might use a jammer.”
“As many of our passengers do, in spite of regulations to the contrary.” Wallace grimaced. “In that case, how do you hope to find him?” He nodded in my direction.
“That’s where Pepper comes in.” The Mutt sat up on her haunches, ears pricked up.
“Ah. Low tech.” I saw Pepper stiffen at the Security Chief’s words, and smirked. “That may help you succeed where others have failed.”
“You’ll continue your video surveys, I presume?” Minna fixed the security officer with a steady look.
“Of course. I’ll be sure to let you know if anything pops.”
“So, the grab is set for tomorrow. Are you nervous?” Pepper shot me an intense glare, and stood, head cocked, waiting for an answer.
“Me? Nervous?” I tried to laugh. The sound caught in my throat.
Truth is, I’m more used to being the pursuer than the pursued. There’s something unnerving about the thought of being placed in a prominent location, in hopes the jewel thieves would pounce on me. Waiting to be captured . . .
Minna had left for dinner in the main dining hall—not that the food-synth in the kitchen wouldn’t have provided her with sustenance. What really drew her, I knew, were the rumors, whispers and hints she might glean from face-to-face conversation.
I scowled. It was all fine and well for her to go out and gather information. But she’d left us to cool our heels here in the cabin. With the dog watching for any sign or hint of vulnerability that could be used against me in future, I could barely stand the tension.
“Minna’s not the only one who can gather intelligence,” I said, raising my head high and avoiding the dog’s gaze. “I think I’ll go visit the ship’s cat, Festus. See if he knows anything.”
“That’s—Minna said—I mean, you—”
“Did Minna expressly forbid us to leave the cabin?” I leaped up onto the couch so I could employ the symbolic gesture of looking down at The Dog.
“No—Well—Not exactly, she—”
“I’ll be back soon.”
Before she could voice further objections, I trotted toward the automatic door, which hissed open, releasing me into the passageway.
From my past experience as a ship’s cat, I figured the best place to look for Festus was on the lower decks. These held cargo storage, the hydroponic garden, and the exercise facilities as well as a number of the tiny sleeper bunks housing those who opted for hiber-sleep to economize on food and lodging costs. Prowling this level of the ship invariably gave me chills, whether from the cool oozing out of the sleeper bunks, or a psychic frisson inspired by the sense that the area was occupied by ghosts, probably as a by-product of the dreams spun by hiber-slumbering passengers.
My hunch proved good. About a minute after I reached A Deck, I encountered a large grey tabby with part of his right ear missing—souvenir of a battle with a shipboard pest, I supposed, though protocol precluded me from inquiring directly.
“Already got a ship’s cat here, mister,” the tabby grunted. He leaned closer, studying my collar, and his nose wrinkled. “My mistake. You’re one of those pampered felines in first class. What’re you doing down here, slumming it?”
I plopped down on my behind. “My mother was a ship’s cat.” It was a diversion, and I knew it. But I felt it important to build a sense of trust. Clearly, I wasn’t going to get anything out of Festus if he had his back up.
“What vessel?” Was it my imagination, or did his tone sound a few degrees warmer?
“The Elizabeth. Silver Starr lines.”
“I have a cousin serves there now,” Festus said. He, too, sat. He licked his right forepaw and slicked it over his right ear. Good. He’s relaxed now.
“My master’s worried,” I said, leaning forward and dropping my voice to a whisper. “She’s heard rumor there’s thieves aboard. Hear anything about that?”
“How could I not hear, the way those fools blunder around?” Festus growled, low in his throat. “They’re on C deck, first room aft of the turbolift on the port side. Happened to spot them going into their cabin with contraband, while I was patrolling the decks.”
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to steer her away.” I stood and made as if to leave.
“Hey, there’s some naar mice in the ’ponics. I could use a hand chasing them down.”
I froze. Naar mice were small but elusive beasts. Catching them was ideally a two-cat job, and I knew it.
“My master’s expecting me back. But I’d be happy to give you a hand, when I get a chance.”
As I left, tail in the air, I heard Festus snort from behind me. I knew what that sound meant. He didn’t believe a word of it. It’d be up to me to prove him wrong. Once we managed to collar the jewel thieves.
The right thing to do would be to go to Pepper with my new information. But I knew what she’d do. She’d tell me we had to wait for Minna.
Visiting Festus stirred up old memories. Memories I preferred not to revisit. And action would serve as the best antidote for that. I hopped the turbolift and toggled the button for C deck. When I got out, there were no humans about. Following Festus’ description, I located the jewel thieves’ cabin. I glanced at the nearest camera eye, making sure to stare straight into it. I may be impetuous, but I’m not stupid. It would be best if Minna and Pepper had an idea where I’d gone, if anything were to happen.
Nothing is going to happen, I told myself. I’m just on a scouting mission. Hearing the soft pad of footsteps on the rubberized floor surface, I crouched low. The person approaching wore the off-white one-piece uniform of a Silver Starr employee—a steward, from the insignia stitched on the left breast pocket. The steward shot a glance behind him, then slipped into the very cabin I’d staked out for surveillance—without announcing himself, or knocking.
So that’s how they’re doing it, I thought. A casual observer in the security office might not give heed to a person entering a cabin to do the daily cleaning. With so many screens to watch . . .
And the fact that the substitution of fake jewelry for real was often not detected until long after the fact meant that search of security footage would only reveal the culprits by sheerest luck. I chewed over the new information, feeling elated. Now Pepper would have to admit my scouting mission had been worthwhile. I’d learned more in an hour’s work than the Security staff had deduced over the course of a couple of voyages. I stood, stretched, and shot one final look at the door, burning the location in my mind. Time to head back.
“Not so fast.” The words were followed up by a pinching sensation at the back of my neck. Too late, I realized I’d been too deep in my own thoughts to sense the presence of an enemy. My stomach lurched and a sense of vertigo swept over me as a man picked me up, none too gently. Indignation, surprise, uncertainty—all of these feelings shot through me, leaving me undecided about a course of action.
Perhaps I should not have been so surprised. After all, isn’t this precisely what we had planned for? That the bait I wore so boldly would tempt the thieves?
But the safeguards were not in place. Minna had no idea where I was. Unless Pepper raised the alarm, they wouldn’t even realize the need to initiate a search. Until, perhaps, too late—
These thoughts, and darker ones, chased each other through my head as my captor bore me through the sliding door and into the room beyond.
Remembering what Security Chief Murray had said about jammers, the first thing I did when I entered the room was reach for the ’net with my AI link.
Nothing. As though I’d hit a brick wall.
Which means Minna can’t use the tracker, I thought. Big deal. There’s other ways they can find me. Still, the realization chilled me.
The criminals’ stateroom looked like a miniaturized version of the more luxurious one currently inhabited by Minna and Pepper. For a moment, I felt a piercing longing to be back with them. Why had I left? Why had I thought I could do this by myself?
Because I’m a cat, I reminded myself. Independent. Cunning. It’s time I acted the part.
And so, despite the fear that gnawed at me, despite the sense of regret, I pasted my haughtiest expression on my face as I deployed my senses to learn what I could. In addition to being smaller, the cabin’s materials were less opulent than those on the upper decks. Scuffs and scratches told of heavier wear. Scent suggested that three people inhabited the cramped quarters.
The man in the steward’s uniform lounged on the plasleather couch, his eyes half-open. Beside him, a tall man with intense eyes and thin lips sat upright, fully attentive to my captor as he took two steps into the cabin’s common area.
“This time, our prize came to us,” the man who had grabbed me said. “He was just there outside the cabin. So I snatched him up. " He gave me a shake, and I barely suppressed a snarl. Then, as though his hand had grown weary of the burden of holding me by the scruff, he laid me against his chest, supporting my weight with his arm. "Do you see the jewels on that collar? Even more impressive than in the vidphotos on SocialIte.”
“I don’t trust coincidences.” Menace underlay the tall man’s silky tone. “You should have waited.”
“Oh, come off it. We all get a cut of the proceeds. It’s in my best interest to see that the pot we split is as large as possible.”
“Still, what’s he doing so far from his master? Did you consider the possibility that he might be a plant?”
Hearing these words, I extended my claws in agitation. I retracted them quickly, hoping the gesture would go unnoticed.
“A plant?” Though I dared not study my captor’s face—no need to betray my intelligence—I could picture his forehead creasing in frown-lines as he mulled that over. “But how? You said they’d never notice what we were up to. That they’d never put it together.” His voice rose with each sentence.
“Well, they just may have.”
“So should we let him go?”
“No. We can’t risk it.”
“Won’t someone notice he’s gone?”
“Oh, we’ll make him reappear. Just not alive. And with the fake collar substituted for the real one.”
I froze as the meaning of those ominous words sunk in. I’d thought I could just lie back and wait for Pepper to come sniffing around after me. That clearly wasn’t the best option, given what I’d heard.
I’ll have to save my own hide, that’s all. My lips curled in a snarl. I knew the odds were against me. I might, just maybe, be able to elude one of them. To escape three—well, that was a gambit I was sure to lose. But I had to try.
“Now, it’s time for one last venture,” the tall man said.
“What do I do with him?”
“You collected him. He’s your problem. I just want him gone, and convincingly, by the time we get back.”
“You’re still going to make the last hit? Even though you think someone might be on to us?”
“Relax,” the tall man said, coming back to place a hand on my captor’s shoulder. “Maxwell’s got the override pad all set up for the escape pod.” He nodded toward the man in the steward’s uniform, who offered a smug smile. “S’Kava will connect with us at the deserted moon, as per Plan B. But you saw the valuation of the Empress’s necklace. There’s no way we’re leaving without that particular prize.” After a quick glance at his wrist chrono, he continued. “And time is wasting. The Empress is nothing if not predictable. She’s at lunch at the captain’s table, even as we speak. Deal with the cat, then be ready to go when we get back.”
With that, the tall man stood abruptly. His steward-uniform-clad accomplice rose hurriedly and followed him out the door, patting his front breast pocket as though to make sure of an object. The fake necklace, I thought.
“So,” my captor said, his tone oozing with menace. “Let’s see. How can I dispose of you?” He frowned as he studied me. The presence of a puckered blaster-mark on his cheek suggested that he’d seen enough dark things in his time that his methods of disposal might be inventive, if not painless. It took all of my self control to remain still, to not let my terror show, though I thought he must surely feel the pounding of my beating heart against his arm.
If the man noted my rising discomfort, he gave no indication. “First things first. Let’s get that collar off you.”
More gently than I might have expected, he placed me on the plasleather couch and worked at the fastenings of my jewelled neckpiece, grunting as his large fingers made difficult work of that small task. With his attention fully engaged, I saw my opening. I lashed out with my right forepaw, raking a gash in his hand. Instinctively, he withdrew the injured appendage for inspection. I vaulted off the couch and scooted across the room and into the nearest bunk room.
I leaped onto the bed, while scanning my surroundings desperately. No ledges to jump on, and the absence of a door jamb left me without a perch from which to drop down on him. That meant evasive action would be the order of the day. I backed up into the far corner of the bed, hurriedly moving the pillow with my forepaws so it sat between me and my assailant.
With hands held in front of him and fingers crooked, the man lurched into the room.
“There you are!” He lunged toward the bed, grabbing the pillow and hurling it away before reaching for me.
Anticipating this move, I did not linger. I jumped off the bed, ran between his feet, and headed for the main area. I skidded under the coffee table, located the emergency button, and jabbed it twice. Then I rolled out and scurried under the couch, the accumulated dust causing me to sneeze. Clearly, the autobots weren’t deployed as rigorously here as on the higher decks, and just for a moment, my bemused mind wondered whether Silver Starr Lines had been made aware of this particular problem.
I shook my head. I had more important things to worry about. Like staying alive long enough for Pepper and Minna to come and find me. If anyone was paying attention in the Security office. If they were available, and not haring off after the jewel thieves.
Footsteps approached, and I squeezed closer to the wall. I wonder how long his arms are? Surely he can’t reach—
A squealing noise. I glanced up, and groaned. I’d forgotten that the couches could be folded up against the wall, in case the passengers desired a larger open area. In the case of this room, it appeared that particular feature had not been evoked all that often. The hinges protested against the effort, but did their job anyway.
Now, I lay exposed to the world like a mole rousted from the safety of its burrow.
“Gotcha,” the man grunted. Not willing to chance a repeat taste of my claws, he seized me by the scruff of the neck and held me well out from his body. One thing was for sure. The way I was being held, any attempts on my part to wriggle free were unlikely to catch my assailant by surprise.
There is this about cats: even faced with the grimmest circumstances, it is not in our nature to surrender. Perhaps it is the buffer of knowing we have nine lives—though in truth, there is no way of knowing whether we are living on the fumes of the last of those. I clung fast to hope, despite my predicament.
“Now, where were we?” My captor scanned the room as I hung, quiescent for the time, in his grasp. “Ah. An accident, perhaps. You know what they say about curiosity and the cat.”
I pivoted ever so slightly, enough to see what lay in the range of eyeshot. The garb-grinder, under the sink. Unable to control my agitation, I paddled my forefeet in protest.
“I still need to get that collar off you. But first, to hold those paws in place—”
The man hummed under his breath as he wandered the room. He pulled out the drawers in the tiny kitchenette one by one. “Ah. This will do.” He reached inside the last drawer, extracting a ball of one-side-sticky string.
My muscles tensed as I prepared for one last bid for freedom.
What would Pepper do?
I snorted. Talk him to death, no doubt, though the human wouldn’t understand a word of it. A pang of longing hit as I thought of my canine partner. Much as I enjoyed ribbing her, I had a certain fondness for the hairball. Now, I’d be going without a chance to say—
The door swished open. As one, my captor and I turned our heads in that direction—both of us agitated at the thought that his companions had returned so quickly, though for different reasons.
“Hands up.” The snap of command in the voice rang so clearly that I almost lifted my paws in response. It’s just as well I resisted the urge. My captor unceremoniously released me as he reached his hands skyward. I managed to hit the floor paws-first, absorbing the shock with my legs.
I pivoted and stared at the doorway, as though unable to accept the truth of what my eyes conveyed. For there stood Minna, Security Chief Murray, and Pepper. Even the dog was a sight for sore eyes.
“About time,” I huffed as Pepper trotted over to check on me, tail wagging. “You must have seen the call signal. Although how you got here so quickly—”
“It wasn’t that.” Pepper’s forepaws tap-danced on the floor.
My eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I—after you left, I stopped by to see Festus. I thought you might be in trouble. So I got Minna and she got Chief Murray—”
“You tattled,” I hissed, tail lashing. “You didn’t trust me.”
“I saved your hide.” Pepper’s eyes widened.
“And I saved the mission. If we’d waited, done things as planned, they would have been gone.” Though I would have relished the luxury of a long stare-down—one which I felt certain I would win—other priorities prevailed. “We need to warn Minna. The others will be coming back soon.”
Pepper and I were both AI-enhanced, which multiplied our intelligence exponentially. Despite this, the constraints of anatomy prevented either of us from voicing human language. There was, of necessity, an alternate method for us to communicate with our human compatriots in time of need. Pepper evoked that now, gesturing to Minna to pull out a hand-held computer pad with a slide-out tray containing oversized keys.
I laboriously typed out a message, “Others out on raid. Return soon.” Minna’s eyes narrowed.
“How many?” she asked.
I tapped the “2” key on the pad.
Minna nodded, then gestured to Security Chief Murray. They stowed the captured thief in one of the bunk rooms, bound and gagged, leaving Pepper to keep watch. Minna directed me to lie on the couch as still as possible. She’d found some red sauce in the small fridge unit in the kitchen and had liberally doused my fur with it.
It’ll take hours of grooming to get that out. I groaned inwardly as I assumed my position. Knowledge of that onerous task failed to dampen the heightened sense of anticipation that always arose when we were on the chase. Consumed by curiosity to see how all this turned out, I selected a location that would allow me a view of the door through slitted eyes.
Security Chief Murray and Minna and pressed up against the wall on either side of the entryway, in hopes that their quarry would march through the door and into the trap.
All worked out as planned. Lulled into the complacency of long practice, the jewel-stealing crew strolled in with no sign of wariness. As soon as he spotted me lying on the couch, the tall man headed in my direction, muttering uncomplimentary things about my captor’s intelligence under his breath. With their defenses down, he and his companion were easy prey for Minna and Security Chief Murray.
When Pepper emerged from the bunk room, I batted her playfully on the nose. “For once, I’m glad that you stuck your overly-long snout into my business. Not that I didn’t have everything well in hand.”
“You took an unnecessary risk.” The Dog’s face conveyed her rigid disapproval.
I took a step back. “Had we not acted when we did, the thieves would have escaped, and we would have been no closer to cracking the ring. Our mission would have failed.”
“We could have lost you.”
“The way you go on sometimes, I might be excused for thinking you’d have welcomed that.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know that I—well—you know better.”
I thought of the way Pepper’s tail had wagged when she realized I was alright, and I sighed. “Fine. For what it’s worth, I regretted that I hadn’t had a chance to—to say—”
“There is a way you can atone for that. And thank me for saving you. Again.” Pepper cocked her head, waiting for me to take the bait.
“How?”
“Before he would cough up the information I needed, Festus insisted that I commit to something.” Pepper’s posture telegraphed discomfort.
“What?” I prompted.
“He made me promise to help him with some naar mice. Whatever they are.”
“Ah,” I said. “Well, in that case, I’ll come with you. I’ll explain on the way.” I turned my head away so Pepper wouldn’t see the grin that flitted across my face. “You see, naar mice are kind of like naava spiders—eight long, hairy legs—” I lifted my right forepaw, then my left, with exaggerated motions, such as I thought a spider might make.
Lies, of course. But The Dog, who hated spiders, needn’t know that. If only the walk to the ’ponics area were farther. That would give me time to really get her going . . .