To Prime the Pump (6 page)

They would have liked to have changed into more suitable attire, and Kravisky, in fact, did suggest that they do so. But that 'at once' at the end of the announcement had a nasty, peremptory ring to it, and Grimes knew Griffin far better than did the Surgeon Lieutenant. So they hurried through the ship, acutely conscious of the amused glances directed at them by the officers and ratings they encountered in the alleyways. Grimes heard one man mutter to his companion, "These officers don't half have it good! Looks like they've been on a bleeding holiday . . ."

And now the holiday, such as it it had been, was over. Griffin, seated behind his tidy desk, regarded them coldly, his fat face sullen under the sandy hair.

"So," he said. "So." There was an uneasy silence.

"So you lose an expensive re-entry vehicle. Even if it can be salvaged, there will be repairs. So you rejoin the ship looking like a pair of beach bums." His podgy hands shuffled papers. "There will have to be an official report, you know. Or didn't that occur to you?"

"It had occurred to me, sir," replied Grimes.

"I am pleased to hear it, although I was far from pleased with the verbal report you made to the Captain. There is one important thing that you must learn, Mr. Grimes, and that is that although an officer is automatically a gentleman he should not, repeat not, allow chivalry to interfere with his duty. If that woman had not admitted that she was to blame for the loss of the dynosoar, the consequences to you could have been extremely serious, affecting most adversely your future career in this Service. As it is . . ." He grinned suddenly, relaxed visibly. "As it is, I hope that they never salvage that archaic contraption. It's always been a pain in the neck to me. Sit down, both of you." He pushed a box of cigarettes across his desk. "Smoke. And now, before you go away to start putting things down on paper in your best officialese, tell me in your own words just what has been happening to you.

Grimes told the Commander the full story, omitting nothing. Griffin was amused but, at the same time, annoyed. He said, "I gain the impression that everybody on this bloody planet has a title, except the butler. And he's a robot."

"That's the very impression that we gained," Grimes told him. "And even their robot servitors are snobs."

"You can say that again," declared Kravisky, and told again the story of the superb meal that he had ordered but not received.

"And yet they want our help . . ." mused the Commander. "It must have hurt their pride to have to call in outsiders. Whatever sort of a jam they're in, it must be a serious one."

"Have you any idea what it is, sir?" asked Grimes.

"Haven't a clue. Oh, it's something medical, we all know that much. But a world like this must be healthy. This Lord Tarlton of Dunwich, he used to be
the
physician on the planet of that name, although then he was plain Dr. Tarlton. He was the head of their College of Medicine, and we all know how highly a Dunwich degree is regarded throughout the Galaxy. As a diagnostician, he was a recognized genius. It seems incredible that he should be incapable of handling this emergency, whatever it is. What do you think, Kravisky? As a doctor, I mean."

"I think the same as you do, sir."

"And these others . . . I've been doing my homework in the microfiled Encyclopedia Galactica Year Books. Baron Takada. A multimillionaire on his planet of birth, Kobe. Flew the coop when the local income tax collectors got too avaricious. But known as much for his metaphysical researches as for his wealth. Hereditary Chief Lobenga, onetime native, and ruler, of New Katanga. Stinking rich, of course, but made his own world too hot to hold him by his dabbling in the more unsavory varieties of black magic."

"And the Princess?" asked Grimes.

Griffin chuckled. "She seems to have made quite an impression on you. Just a spoiled popsy from Thuringia. Too much money and didn't like to have to plough any of it back into the welfare of the miners and factory hands. Sold out at a pretty profit and bought her way into the El Dorado Corporation. De Messigny? Not even a millionaire but had a name as a space yachtsman and freelance explorer. I suppose that these people wanted somebody who was more or less their breed of cat to captain their merchant ships."

"All these titles . . ." said Kravisky.

"Fair dinkum, most of 'em. I often think that all these stories about effete aristocrats are put out by the aristocrats themselves. After all,
they
have practiced selective breeding for centuries . . ." He leaned back in his chair. "Money snobbery, snobbery of birth . . . It makes a pretty picture, doesn't it? And you two were in the picture. I suppose that we all are, now." His manner stiffened. "But if there's to be any shore leave, which I doubt, I shall impress upon every bastard aboard this ship, every officer, every rating, that he is to wear his uniform with
pride.

"And, talking of uniforms . . ."

"We'd better get changed, sir," said Grimes.

"You'd better," said Griffin.

Captain Daintree and the officers who had accompanied him returned from the city the following morning, delivered back to the spaceport by one of the graceful flying cars. The captain went straight to his own quarters, accompanied by Griffin, who had received him at the airlock. Dr. Passifern went straight to the ship's well-equipped laboratory, where his own staff was awaiting him. Paymaster Lieutenant Hodge and Lieutenant Lamont, of the Marine Corps, made their way to the wardroom, where all the off-duty officers, including Grimes, were already gathered.

"And what have you to say for yourself, Pusser?" demanded Lieutenant Commander Cooper.

Hodge, a slight, clerkly young man, made a major production of drawing a cup of coffee from the dispenser. He sipped it, made a grimace. He complained,
"They
serve much better espresso than this . . ."

"You did more than drink coffee," stated Cooper.

"We did," said the Marine, stroking the luxuriant mustache that was supposed to give him a martial appearance. "We did. We sat around trying to look intelligent while our lords and masters conferred with all the counts and barons and princes and whatever."

"Any princesses?" asked somebody.

"Yes. There was one, come to think of it. A quite tasty blonde piece. Which reminds me, she gave me a letter for you, young Grimes."

"Never mind Mr. Grime's love life," said Cooper a little jealously. "That can wait. Why were we asked to call here ? Or is that classified? "

"It is," Hodge told him primly. "No doubt the Captain will release such information as he sees fit when he feels like it."

"But we weren't told to say nothing of what we
saw,"
pointed out Lamont.

"Can I have my letter?
"
asked Grimes.

"Later, later. It will keep."

"Mr. Grimes!" snapped Cooper, "I will not have the wardroom turned into a beer garden. You will please refrain from laying hands upon the brutal and licentious soldiery. Please continue, Mr. Lamont."

"Well, Pilot, we were taken to the city, as you know. That air car was really posh. Some sort of Inertial Drive but fully automated. There was a girl in charge of it, a Lady Jane Kennelly, one of those really snooty redheads, and she never laid so much as a pinky on the controls, just said in a bored voice, 'Head Office,' and the thing replied—there was a speaker on the console—'Head Office, your ladyship. Certainly, your ladyship.' I felt like saying, 'Home, James, and don't spare the horses,' but the Old Man gave me such a dirty look that I thought better of it.

"She, this Lady Jane, wasn't in a conversational mood and neither was the Old Man, so
nobody
talked. It was only a short flight, anyhow. We passed over what looked like farms, but more like gardens than farms, if you know what I mean. We saw big, specialized machines working in the fields, but never a human being.

"Then we came to the city. Oh, I know that we've all seen it from the air, but you have to be flying through it, below the level of the towers, really to appreciate it. Just towers, spires, rather, and each of them standing in its own park. Not many people around, and nobody looking to be in any sort of a hurry. Quite a few machines like oversized beetles pottering around in the gardens. My own interest in botany doesn't go beyond things you eat and drink, like cauliflowers and hops, but even I could see that just about every species of flower in the whole damn Galaxy must have been in full bloom in those beds.

"We dropped down on to a lawn in front of the really big tower, so tall that the big, golden standard flying from its peak was half-obscured by a wisp of low cloud. And it's not one of those flimsy, reinforced plastic jobs, either. Solid granite, it looked like. Solid granite, and polished, with a bit of gold trim here and there. Not at all gaudy. Like a huge tombstone, a multimillionaire's tombstone, in good taste.

"Lady Jane said, in her cool voice, 'This is the end of the penny section.' She made it quite clear that she'd done her job and that what happened next was none of her concern. The door of the car opened and we got out. The Old Man first, then Doc, then the Pusser's pup, then myself. We were hardly clear of the car when the door shut and it lifted and went whiffling off down the avenue. So we stood there, sort of shuffling our feet and coughing politely. Shuffling our feet? That grass felt good. I'd have loved to have kicked off my boots and walked on it barefooted.

"By this time the Old Man was looking more than somewhat thunderous. He was just about to say something when I saw a big door opening at the base of the tower. And one of those damned mechanical voices that seemed to be coming from nowhere, or everywhere, said, very politely, 'Please to enter, gentlemen.'

"So we entered."

"And then?" pressed Cooper. "And then?"

"I think that's as far as we can take you," Hodge told him severely. "I think we've told you too much already."

"What about my letter?" asked Grimes.

"Shut up!" snarled the Navigator. He turned again to the Marine and Paymaster Lieutenant. "But you must know what it's all about."

"Yes, we know," Hodge told him smugly. "But until we have the Captain's permission we cannot tell you."

Lament looked at the clerical officer with some distaste. Obviously he disliked having his story spoiled by this over-meticulous observance of regulations. He said, "I don't think that I'm contravening the Official Secrets Act or its Survey Service equivalent if I tell you that, although we saw quite a few people in the city, we didn't see a single child. Neither did we see in any of the parks and gardens we flew over anything that looked like a children's playground . . ."

There was a silence while those in the wardroom pondered the implications of Lament's statement. It was broken by Grimes. "And now can I have my letter, Lament?

"What a one-track mind!" said Cooper, almost admiringly.

"Perhaps it's the right track," Grimes told him.

"Do you think
they
haven't tried it, lover boy?" sneered the Lieutenant Commander.

As soon as he was able Grimes got away from the wardroom, hurried to his spartan dogbox of a cabin. He looked at the letter for quite a long while before he opened it. The envelope was pale blue and conveyed, by appearance and texture, an impression of expensiveness and quality. The address, Grimes decided at last, was typewritten, although he had never either seen or heard of a machine with Gothic characters. He grinned faintly. With that type,
Herr Leutnant
would have looked so much better than the plain, ordinary
Lieutenant.

There was a tiny tab on the pack of the envelope that made for easier opening. Grimes pulled it and the flap fell away. Immediately he was conscious of a hint of perfume, remembered it as the scent that the princess had worn at the time of their last meeting. He began to feel even more impatient, extracted the sheet of paper and unfolded it. It, too, was pale blue, deckle-edged, luxurious to sight and touch. The letter, apart from the firm, decisive signature, had been written by the same machine as the address.
Dear Mr. Grimes,
he read.
Having met and talked with your Captain I now realize how thoughtless and selfish my behavior was on the occasion of your landing on Lake Bluewater. On this world we are prone to forget that the mores of other planets are different from our own. Perhaps, when Captain Daintree grants shore leave, you would care to be my guest.

Marlene.

He pursed his lips and whistled softly.
But it means nothing,
he told himself.
Just
noblesse oblige.
Or throw the good doggie a nice bone.
The Universe was full of people who said, "But you must stay with us . . ." And then were surprised and pained when you turned up their front doorstep, suitcase in hand. In any case, it yet remained to be seen whether or not Daintree would allow planet liberty.

The bulkhead speaker burped, then announced, "Attention all! Attention all! This is the Captain speaking. It is my pleasure to announce that the local authorities have agreed to permit shore leave. Arrangements will be made for sightseeing trips and the like. Details will be promulgated by Heads of Departments." There was a pause, then Daintree added, "Mr. Grimes to report to me at once."

So he can tell me that
my
leave is stopped,
thought Grimes glumly.

"Sit down, Grimes." Captain Daintree was almost affable.

Grimes sat down.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Grimes. This business of the loss of the re-entry vehicle . . ."

"Sir?"

Surprisingly, the Old Man grinned. "There was a film made of the whole sorry business. One of those damned robots in Spaceport Control records, as a matter of routine, every spaceship arrival and departure. I saw the film." He grinned again. "I must admit that the spectacle of the Princess attired in a single water ski was, shall we say, distracting. An odd woman, Her Highness. But attractive, very attractive . . ."

Come to the point, you old goat,
thought Grimes.