Page 65 of Sky Song
She assumed a sterner tone. “Is it illegal?”
“Now, a tool is only illegal if you use it to commit crime. Even I know that.”
“Lyle.” She drilled him with her eyes.
“This device should help with our situation.”
“Oursituation?”
“Yes. And the gun is a gun.” He pointed to the small electric stunner next to his elbow. “Just in case.”
“I’m not taking you back to the lab.”
His eyebrows arched. “Then how would I take a look at the files?”
She stopped chewing the cheese. “Files? I assumed you’re breaking into that supply room.”
“Now, who’s being impatient? That’s for later. First, we need information.”
“Lyle, there’s no ‘we’ in this circus. I don’t know what your goal is, but if you want to know more about our hospital, you should ask Dr. Ragberg or someone like him, not look for a backdoor to that information. As a matter of fact, I begin to wonder if you are a renowned medical professional that came to advance his knowledge or research.”
“I came to advance my knowledge, I swear to all your gods,” he assured her.
Something brushed against her leg, and when she looked down, distracted, she found Hipper standing on hind legs, staring at her cheese.
“Lyle, I think he’s hungry.”
“Feed him if you want.”
She broke off a small piece of cheese and offered it to Hipper. He tentatively reached out with one small grasping paw and transferred the cheese to his mouth, chewing it slowly, almost lady-like.
“Didn’t you own a pet when you were little?” she asked.
“No. Animals are food.”
She should have known he’d have this belief, what with those teeth and all.
Hipper extended his paw toward Cricket again in an unmistakable request. Smiling, she put another piece of cheese in there and was rewarded with an answering smile.
“Don’t think I forgot what we were talking about.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, my hearts.” He stood up, and Hipper retreated back under the table, but not before snatching one more cheese crumb. “What did you write in the letter to your mother?”
“Oh. Well, I’m still writing it.”
“Does it always take you that long?”
“No. Things have been fluid lately. By the time I finish writing, everything is different.”
“Now you’re lying,” he chided.
“I’m not!”
“You don’t know what to write about me.”
“I do! I have no problem writing about you.” Cricket also stood up, idly picking cheese crumbs off the table. “I just don’t want mama to overreact.”
“Because I’m an alien?”
