Spartan Planet - A. Bertram Chandler [43]
"We went too close, and they attacked us. They pulled me out of the car, but Brasidus saved me. And now, Captain Diomedes, I'd like to get back on board as soon as possible for an antibiotic shot and some fresh clothing." Before leaving the car, she stooped to lift the hamper from the back seat, handed it to Grimes' officer.
"What's in that basket?" demanded Diomedes.
"Nothing that concerns you!" she flared.
"I'll decide that," Grimes stated. "Here, Mister Taylor. Let me see."
The officer turned to face his captain, with his body hiding the hamper from Diomedes and his men. It was not intentional—or was it? Grimes, his face emotionless, lifted Brasidus' torn tunic from the open top of the wickerwork container. He said calmly, "One wine flagon. About six inches of gnarled sausage. The heel of a loaf of crusty bread. You decide, Captain, what may be brought off the ship onto your world, I decide what may be brought from your world onto my ship. Mister Taylor, take this hamper to the biochemist so that its contents may be analyzed. And you, Doctor Lazenby, report at once to the surgeon. I'll receive your report later."
"Commander Grimes, I insist that I inspect that hamper." Three of the hoplites stepped forward, began to surround Mister Taylor.
"Captain Diomedes, if any of your men dare to lay hands upon my officer the consequences will be serious."
Diomedes laughed incredulously. "You'd open fire over a mug of wine and a couple of scraps of bread and sausage?"
"Too right I would."
Diomedes laughed again. "You aliens . . ." he said contemptuously. "All right, you can have your crumbs from the sergeants' mess. And I'd like a few words with your Doctor Lazenby as soon as she can spare me the time. And I'll have rather more than a few words with you, Brasidus, now!"
Reluctantly Brasidus got out of the car.
"And you let her threaten you with a laser weapon—and, furthermore, one that you had allowed her to carry . . ."
Brasidus, facing Diomedes, who was lolling behind his desk, said rebelliously, "You, sir, checked her equipment. And she told me herself that the thing did function as a camera."
"All right. We'll let that pass. You allowed her to use a stun gun on the village corporal and the innkeeper, and then you drove her out to the Exposure. Why, Brasidus, did you have to stop at Kilkis, of all villages, on this day, of all days?"
"Nobody told me not to, sir. And, as you know, the dates of the Exposures are never advertised. You might have been informed, but I was not."
"So you drove her out to see the Exposure. And you got too close. And the wolves attacked you, and pulled her out of the car."
"That is correct, sir."
"Surely she could have used this famous laser-camera to defend herself."
"It was damaged, sir. She had to throw it away in a hurry. It blew up."
"Yes. I've been told that there's an area on the hillside that looks as though some sort of bomb had been exploded." He leaned back in his chair, looked up at the standing Brasidus. "You say that the wolves attacked her. Are you sure that it wasn't you?"
"And why should it have been me, sir?"
"Because it should have been. You let an alien order you around at gun point, and then you ask me why you should have attacked her! And now . . ." the words came out with explosive violence, "What was in the hamper?"
"Wine, sir. Bread. Sausage."
"And what was your tunic doing there?"
"I lent it to her, sir, to replace her own shirt."
"So, instead of wearing it, she put it in the hamper."
"The air was warm, sir, when we got down from the mountains. She asked me if she could have it so that the fibers from which it is woven could be analyzed by the . . . the biochemist."
"H'm. All in all, Brasidus, you did not behave with great brilliance. Were it not for the fact that these aliens—or one alien in particular—seem to like you, I should dispense with your services. As it is, you are still useful. Now, just what were this Margaret Lazenby's reactions when she learned of the Exposure?"
Lying, Brasidus