“Come on!” snapped the ensign. “Who are you?”
Mike the Angel pulled out his ID card and handed it to the security cop. “It tells right there who I am,” he said. “That is, if you can read.”
The man glared and jerked the card out of Mike’s hand, but when he saw the emblem that Lieutenant Nariaki had stamped on it, his eyes widened. He looked up at Mike. “I’m sorry, sir; I didn’t mean—”
“That tears it,” interrupted Mike. “That absolutely tears it. In the past three minutes I have been apologized to by a woman, a robot, and a cop. The next thing, a penguin will walk in here, tip his top hat, and abase himself while he mutters obsequiously in penguinese. Just what the devil is going on around this place?”
The four SP men were trying hard not to fidget.
“Just security precautions, sir,” said the ensign uncomfortably. “Nobody but those connected with Project Brainchild are supposed to know about Snookums. If anyone else finds out, we’re supposed to take them into protective custody.”
“I’ll bet you’re widely loved for that,” said Mike. “I suppose the gadget at Miss What’s-her-name’s belt was an alarm to warn you of impending disaster?”
“Miss Crannon.... Yes, sir. Everybody on the project carries those around. Also, Miss Crannon carries a detector for following Snookums around. She’s sort of his keeper, you know.”
“No,” said Mike the Angel, “I do not know. But I intend to find out. I’m looking for Captain Quill; where is he?”
The four men looked at each other, then looked back at Mike.