“I’ll trust Do-Wop to check out the low-tech end,” said Phule. “The lower it is, the more likely he is to think of it-“
“Undeniably,” said Beeker. His face remained placid.
After a moment, Phule frowned. “All right, Beek, I know that act,” he said, pointing a finger at his butler. “You think I’m doing something stupid, but you don’t think it’s your place to call me out on it. So you’ll let me fall all over myself doing it, and then pick me up with a smug I-told-you-so expression. Or you’ll pull strings behind my back to make me do what you think I ought to be doing, without knowing it was your idea. Am I right or wrong?”
“I would not put it in quite those terms, sir.”
“I don’t care what terms you want to put it in,” said Phule. “We’re in a different situation; this is a military operation, and more than just saving face could be at issue. If it’s something I need to know, I need to know it before we get into real trouble. So cough it up, Beek.”
Beeker drew himself up straight. “Sir, as I have told you more than once, I have no special expertise-nor special interest, either-in military affairs.”
“I don’t think that’s relevant,” said Phule sharply. “Come on, now. There’s something you’re holding back, and I want to know it.”
Beeker put his hands behind his back and said, “Very well, sir. Is there someplace we can speak in complete privacy?”
“What’s wrong with here?” said Phule, looking around at the apartment the Zenobians had given him for his use during his stay in their capital. Then a light came into his face, and he said, “Aha, I see what you’re getting at. Sure, I think we can find someplace. Let’s take a walk.”