“If they don’t, I suspect they soon will. Their adaptability is their most impressive trait,” said Beeker. He paused a moment, then added, “With proper instruction, I believe they could learn to be quite adequate butlers.”
For a moment, Phule was speechless. Then he shook his head and said, “Let’s just hope they don’t try it. Civilization in this Galaxy has withstood everything from supernovas to clouds of dark matter, but a race of Beekers would be the final straw.”
“To the contrary, sir,” said Beeker, pulling himself up to his full height. “It would be the first opportunity for a real civilization to exist.”
“You two could probably go on about this all night long,” said Sushi with a crooked grin. “But I think we’d better get everything else taken care of before you get started on it-if you know what I mean, Captain.”
“You’re right,” said Phule, chuckling. “All right, Beeker, you wait here with the hoverjeep until we bring the robot back. If anybody from the camp comes out looking for you, do what you have to do to lose them. Call me on our private frequency, and we’ll figure out an alternate rendezvous point if we need to.”
Beeker settled into the hoverjeep’s cockpit, and the rest of the party began a careful approach to the perimeter. Not knowing what security measures Major Botchup had put in place since their departure, they couldn’t assume they’d be able to walk in unchallenged. For all they knew, the major had ordered the camp guards to shoot any intruders on sight. And while odds were fairly good that the shooting would be done with Zenobian stun rays, being immobilized and brought in for questioning would put a serious crimp in their plans. All of them were technically AWOL, and even before that, all the legionnaires had been ordered confined to the base. The major would most likely throw the book at them without bothering to listen to explanations.