“What’s that, Tusk? Oh. No, I don’t think he would … If they give him a choice, that is. Sorry. I’m a little worried about the Top. Is it me, or is she drinking more lately?”
“Brandy?” Tusk-anini cranked his huge warthoglike head around to glance at the top sergeant. “I think she worried about captain. She love him, you know.”
“She does?” his diminutive partner said, giving him her full attention. “I didn’t know that.”
Though she had long since grown used to the Voltron’s nonhuman appearance, his broken-English speech made it easy to forget that he was easily one of the most intelligent Legionnaires in the company, not to mention one of the most perceptive. Still, when she was reminded of that fact, as she was now, she had a healthy respect for his observations.
“That all right,” Tusk-anini said, twisting his features into one of his rare smiles. “Captain not know, either.”
Before Super Gnat could pursue the subject further, however, there was a sudden clamor from one side of the pool.
“Hey! Here’s the man who can tell us!”
“Beeker!”
“Hey, Beek! Got a sec?”
The commander’s butler, Beeker, had just stepped through the entrance, taking the common shortcut across the pool/firing range area to the captain’s quarters. Unfortunately this might not have been the wisest move. Though the butler was notoriously closemouthed about the confidences shared with him by his employer, the crew was still quick to seize on any chance of information and swarmed to him like locusts after the last ear of corn on the planet.