Page 149 - The Perpetrations of Captain Kaga

Breaking the Grapefruit Connection
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Paradox immediately righted himself and surveyed the damage.
Then he extended his utility hose and vacuumed up the broken glass,
a task any well-programmed menial would recognize as a priority.
Nevertheless, the incident must have probed the innermost loops of
his hostility logic, for he stopped working long enough to turn and
address the speechless assembly.
“This club has rules, my dear sirs,” he intoned in a cultured voice,
“which provide for the blackballing of members whose friends
attempt to enter these precincts uninvited.”
The only member to whom this remark could have applied was
already on his feet and approaching the scene of the unusual
manifestation. The other members harrumphed, buzzed, glottally
stopped and returned to their various inactivities. Captain Kaga
poked gingerly at the sack; it bore but the slightest resemblance to his
friend, Lieutenant Lugo, whom it had seemingly replaced in the space
of no time at all. The words ‘Freight Group’ were stenciled upon the
rough burlap.
“Paradox,” said Kaga, “would you please contact this company, the
Freight Group, and inquire whether one of their sacks is missing.”
“Certainly, sir…I’m sorry, sir. There is no listing for that name
anywhere on Radnelac III.”
“Ooops!’’ Kaga quickly stepped back a few paces, as if he had been
burned. “Why don’t you open that sack for me, Paradox. I’m afraid I
left my Boy Scout knife in my other jumpsuit.”
“Certainly, sir.” As Kaga involuntarily raised his hand in front of
his eyes, the robot neatly slit the sack open on one side, and several
dull yellow spheres rolled out.
“Grapefruit!” exclaimed Captain Kaga. “Lugo and grapefruit.
Grapefruit and Lugo. Paradox! Save this somewhere for me, will you?
I’ve got to find out what’s happened to Lieutenant Lugo.”
He ran out of the room, barely hearing Paradox say, “Articles left
in the club by members must be claimed in thirty sidereal days or…”
Outside the club’s doors, Kaga decided to splurge on the fare for a
pneumotube ride back to his quarters in the Retired Officers
Compound. Five minutes later he was inside his own study, hooking
up his illicit ComSet scrambler. After donning his pink-and-green Old
Spacetimers Convention hat and a false mustache, he placed a call to
the Ramalamadindon Monastery.

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