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I'm just an arrogant, vain, quarrelsome woman.... Look how many people I've deceived, what little good I've really done in the world " "Rub bish! You done good wherever you went ... to my pore mother wonder, by the bye, what she thinks and 'ow she's gettin' on? Sons are awful ungrateful and forgettin'. What with you and Nance and the little 'uns, I ain't scarcely give a thought to poor mother.
Coming through the crowd, walking as though the concrete under him was pitching and rolling like a ship's deck on contragravity in a storm, was Bish Ware. He caught sight of us, waved, overbalanced himself and recovered, and then changed course to starboard and bore down on us. He was carrying about his usual cargo, and as usual the manifest would read, Baldur honey-rum, from Harry Wong's bar.
I slipped hastily into my coat and, turning up the collar, plunged out into the rain and the night and stumbled blindly away on weary legs towards Panama. There were four of us that Sunday. "Bish" and I always went for an afternoon swim unless police or mess duties forbade.
Nobody, not even Joe Kivelson, wanted to begin with any massed frontal attack on Hunters' Hall. "We'll have to bombard the place," he was saying. "We try to rush it and we'll lose half our gang before we get in. One man with good cover and a machine gun's good for a couple of hundred in the open." "Bish may be inside," I mentioned.
Captain Courtland, with his tight mouth under a gray mustache and the quadruple row of medal ribbons on his breast, was on the left. In the middle, the seat of honor, was Bish Ware, looking as though he were presiding over a church council to try some rural curate for heresy. As soon as Joe Kivelson saw him, he roared angrily: "There's the dirty traitor who sold us out!
Finally I got through with my interview, and then shot about fifteen minutes of audiovisual, which would be cut to five for the 'cast. By this time Bish and "Dr. Watson" had disappeared, I supposed to the ship's bar, and Ravick and his accomplices had gotten through with their conspiracy to defraud the hunters. I turned Murell over to Tom, and went over to where they were standing together.
Glory be, I thought; I finally got that apprentice. "Why, sure," I said. "You tow the hamper; I'll carry this." I got out what looked like a big camera case and slung it over my shoulder. "But you'll have to take me out on the Javelin, sometime, and let me shoot a monster." He said it was a deal, and we shook on it. Then I had another idea. "Bish, suppose you come with us, too," I said.
He puffed hard on his pipe, and then excused himself and went back to his work. Editing an audiovisual telecast is pretty much a one-man job. Bish wanted to know if he could be of assistance, but there was nothing either of us could do, except sit by and watch and listen.
Laden is a widow; she has been with us since my mother died, the year after I was born. She is violently anti-liquor. Reluctantly, she condones Dad taking a snort now and then, but as soon as she saw Bish Ware, her face started to stiffen. She put the soup on the table and took off for the kitchen. She always has her own dinner with Julio.
They were very careful to make sure they had enough for a legal quorum under the bylaws, and then they voted to accept the new price of thirty-five centisols a pound." "That's what I was afraid of," Joe Kivelson said. "Did they arrest any of my crew?" "Not that I know of," Bish said. "They made a few arrests, but turned everybody loose later. They're still looking for you and your son.
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