“Hmmm. I dunno. There’s got to be more to it than that,” Harry said. “Every time I’ve tried bein’ myself with the ladies, they tend to look around for a cop.”
That got a laugh from Beeker.
“Of course, Harry, you should remember that when it comes to being oneself, you and I are notably different people. Still, I’ll be willing to chat with you on the subject sometime, if you’d like.”
“All right, my man, it’s a date. Just say when and where, and I’ll be there with a notepad.”
“It will probably have to wait until this assignment is over,” Beeker said. “I’m of the impression that while it’s on, we’re to avoid each other’s company publicly, for the sake of secrecy.”
“Yeah, I know.” Harry sighed heavily. “Well, let me know when you think it’ll be all right.”
There was another moment’s pause.
“Are you all right, Harry?” the butler said at last, a note of concern creeping into his voice. “Forgive me if I’m prying, but you sound a little down.”
“I guess I am … a bit,” the ex-biker admitted.
“What’s wrong? Is it anything you’d like to talk about?”
“I dunno … It’s just that …” Harry struggled for a second, then the floodgates went down and the words came in a rush. “I just feel kinda cut off out here … out of the information loop, you know? One of the things I’ve always liked about the cap’n is that he always made sure I knew what was goin’ on, even when it didn’t involve me direct. Now I only hear about some of the things that are happenin’, and even then it’s after the action is over. For the most part, I just stand around here and polish glasses and wonder what’s goin’ on with the crew. I’ll tell you, Beeker, it’s gettin’ to me. You know, it seems like more and more often I see somethin’ or think of somethin’ and turn to point it out to the guy next to me, only there’s no one there. I mean, there’re folks here and all, but no one I can talk to. Know what I mean?”