The VMR Theory (v1.1) by Robert Frezza Page B

Catarina standing next to me, shaking her head. “Am I making this too easy?”
    She nodded. Then she intoned, “Over all of middle earth, a great shadur has fallen.”
    The expression on my face probably resembled the expression on the shadur’s face when it hit ground. “Catarina, dearest,” I said as sweetly as I could manage.
    She gave my arm a squeeze. “How about, ‘In the sand of Vor’dur, where the shadurs lie’?”
    Although my eyes were focusing, my recovery was definitely on hold, so I switched topics. “What have I missed?”
    “Things have been a little hectic. Wyma Jean tried to commit suicide by overdosing herself with Korean food. After we got her stomach pumped and let her sleep it off, she ripped a fire ax off the wall and went looking for Harry.”
    “Love makes such fools of people, and people are such fools to begin with that it’s compounding a felony,” I quoted.
    “Also, Clyde got caught rifling the papers in Bobby’s office. Old Bobby foxed us with the kind of private secu-rily system you can’t afford on a lieutenant commander’s salary. I had a bad four hours in Ambassador Meisenhelder’s office trying to keep him from crucifying Clyde, who is still under house arrest.”
    Tskhingamsa interrupted, “Please, enough talk now. We must go into tee tunnel.”
    Trixie pushed aside a panel and disappeared. As I bent over to follow, everything looked pitch-black to me. “Uh, can we turn on the lights in here?”
    The playful expression on Catarina’s face told me more than I wanted to know.
    “Regrettably, we Klo’klotixag see deeper into tee ultraviolet spectrum t’an humans do,” Tskhingamsa said. “My deepest apologies.”
    “You must hold on to my belt very, very tightly,” Trixie purred.
    “And I’ll have a hand in your pocket all the way,” Catarina assured me. “Just remember not to try to stand up.”
    Four bruises later we emerged in a sewer pumping station. While Tskhingamsa went to get the car, Catarina reached into her belt pouch and fished out a chocolate bar. “You look like you could use this.”
    “Thanks.” I bit into it.
    As soon as Tskhingamsa was out of earshot, Catarina said quietly, “Trixie has been passing information to Dr. Blok for about two years. For all practical purposes, she was Blok’s agent network, so she has serious reservations about staying behind if Blok goes with us. She set up a meeting, but Blok isn’t sure how far to trust her or us.”
    I nodded. “Should I ask what our deal is with her?”
    Catarina raised one eyebrow. “Dear me. Someone said something about a spare bunk in Stores.”
    “Catarina promised to show me how to fly a spaceship, which is much better tan eating kumquats,” Trixie said cheerfully. “And I will see lots of human colonial worlds.”
    You had to feel sorry for her. “How did we get set up with the battalion leader there?” I asked Catarina.
    “He gave me a call and offered to exchange information.” Catarina grinned. “The Macdonald intelligence agencies cut cards on us. Army Intelligence got me, and Wipo got you.”
    “Is t’is not fortunate?” Trixie simpered. “Ot’erwise, we would never have met.”
    “Tskhingamsa and I got together this morning for a cup of cocoa to discuss our mutual interests, which by then included you. He loaned us his tunnel, which the army uses to keep abreast of Special Secret Police matters.”
    Trixie giggled. “She told Battalion Leader Tskhingamsa t’at she would have to rescue you herself if he didn’t help, and he would lose his source if she got caught. He was very put out.”
    I noticed a cut over Catarina’s right eye. “Where did you get that?”
    “Klo’klotixag Navy Intelligence drew a deuce in the big stakeout lottery. Apparently, they’re a little peeved about it. Someone left a letter bomb for me, and they appear to be the likeliest suspects.”
    “So what’s the embassy kitchen serving for dinner?” I asked, suddenly feeling very