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Updated: May 15, 2025
"He's still unconscious, sir, but his breathing sounds all right." "How's his pulse?" Keku picked up Mellon's left wrist and applied his fingers to the artery while he looked at his wrist watch. Mike said: "We'll check it, sir. Wait a few seconds." Fifteen seconds later, Keku multiplied by four and said: "One-oh-four and rather weak."
Mike looked the man over carefully, but rapidly. "But you're not Oriental or at least, not much. You look Polynesian to me." "Hit it right on the head, Commander. Hawaiian. My real name's Kekuanaoa, but nobody could pronounce it, so I shortened it to Keku when I came in the Service." Mike gave a short laugh. "That accounts for your size. Kekuanaoa.
The chief's arm slammed to the table with a bang that sounded as if the table had shattered. Multhaus had allowed Mike's entrance to distract him, while Lieutenant Keku had held out just an instant longer. Both men leaped to their feet, Multhaus valiantly trying not to nurse his bruised hand. "Sorry, sir," said Multhaus. "We were just " "Ne' mind. I saw. Who usually wins?" Mike asked.
"What the hell do you suppose was eating him?" he asked quietly. "How's your shoulder?" Mike asked. "Hurts like the devil, but I don't think it's busted. But why did he do it?" he repeated. "Sounds to me," said Keku dryly, "that he was nutty jealous of you. He didn't like the times you took Leda Crannon to the base movies while we were at Chilblains."
"This is Lieutenant Commander von Liegnitz, Navigation Officer; Lieutenant Keku, Supply; Lieutenant Mellon, Medical Officer; and Ensign Vaneski, Maintenance. You can all shake hands with each other later; right now, let's get on with business." He frowned, overshadowing his eyes with those great, bushy brows. "What was I saying just before Commander Gabriel came in?"
A Space Service physician's doctorate is never used as a form of address; three out of four Space Service officers have a doctor's degree of some kind, and there's no point in calling 75 per cent of the officers "doctor." Mike glanced across the room. Keku had finished stripping the little physician to his underclothes and had put a cover over him.
The little robot seemed to have developed a sudden penchant for asking seemingly inane questions. Lieutenant Keku reported with a grin that Snookums had asked him if he knew who Commander Gabriel really was. "What'd you say?" Mike had asked.
The spanner caught him on the shoulder, and he grunted in pain, but he kept on moving away from Mellon. The medic screamed something and lifted the spanner again. By this time, Keku, too, was on his feet, moving toward Mellon. Mike the Angel got behind Mellon, trying to grab at the heavy metal tool in Mellon's hand.
There was something wrong, all right. And why from the end of the act? Another act to come? Something more to happen? The clock will go round till another time comes. Watch the clock, the absolutely cuckoo clock, which ticked as things happened that made almost no sense and yet had sense hidden in their works. The good old Keku clock. Somewhere is icumen in, lewdly sing Keku.
Lieutenant Keku, upon seeing Mike the Angel dealt a second eight, flipped over his up cards and folded. "Satisfaction?" he asked the ensign. Vaneski nodded. "One hand of showdown for five clams. I have been playing encyclopedia for that hunk of animated machinery for an hour. That's above and beyond the call of duty." "Raise a half," said Mike the Angel. "Call," said von Liegnitz.
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