"You're an amateur, dear, and this clunk is a pro who-"

"Let's not give up hope," advised Jake, glancing around the gray room. "And let's not discuss escape plans, since our cell is no doubt monitored."

"Escape plans? Hooey," observed Marsha. "They're going to mindwipe the lot of us sometime later today."

"Who are they exactly?"

"Since I was only pretending to be stupefied, I got a look at some of them,"

said Marsha. "Several hospital staffers are involved, obviously, but I also saw McKey himself once."

"The head of BotPets, yeah," said Jake.

"These goons are also going to give us a dose of truth spray," added Marsha. "McKey is eager to know where TomCat has got to."

"Is Tom okay?" asked Marijane, a slender dark-haired woman of about thirty.

"Far as I know," Jake told her. "Now, before we all start suffering from forgetfulness, exactly what did you find out about those 1,500 robot cats that were shipped to the Republic of Ohio?"

"It's very distressing," she replied and began to explain.

Whispering, Hildy mentioned, "You're not a very convincing cat."

"I am a cat," reminded Tom, whom she was carrying under her arm.

"What I was referring to was your feline disguise," she amplified. "Thesinfur is a little tacky and I really wish we'd had time to do a better job of-"

"Don't blame me if your halfwit hubby got himself abducted to this dump and you had to rush over here to rescue the poor goof," said the robot cat. "I think you're still miffed because the info as to his plight came to you by way of that skinhead Steranko, whom you loathe and-"

'I'm also still a bit miffed that you insisted on tagging along." 'Listen, cookie, I'm essential to this daring rescue scheme. The plan we've contrived to rescue your hapless spouse and, more im-portantly, Marijane, calls upon me to play a crucial role," re-winded TomCat. "And look at the thanks I get for risking my--"

"Hush now, we're at the hospital entrance."

The plaz doors at the top of the winding ramp slid aside and Hildy, who was wearing a conservative three-piece gray neowool bizsuit, entered the main lobby of the three-tier Thorpe Private Hospital.

"Rowr," said Tom.

"Not a very convincing meow."

"A lot you know, sister. I was playing a caz of an authentic field recording of a real d.a.m.n cat."

"Even so." She went striding up to the boomerang-shaped tin reception desk.

"How may I help you, ma'am?" inquired Gibbons.

"Ah, this is most impressive, a live receptionist," she said in a vaguely French accent. She smiled and brushed a strand of dark hair from her forehead.

"Usually the receptionists are androids or robots."

The curly-haired young man pointed a thumb at the ceiling. "Usually ours are, too, but they had to transfer Ida up to the Extreme Isolation wing to take Irma's place," he explained. "Some loon named Dr. Bushw.a.n.ger went berserk yesterday and used I some kind of fritzer on her."

Hildy gave a surprised gasp. "But I'm Dr. Bushw.a.n.ger."

Gibbons sat up. "One Dr. Bushw.a.n.ger is enough. I'm afraid I'll-"

"I a.s.sure you I am the authentic Dr. Frances Bushw.a.n.ger. If' some slattern has been impersonating me, I'll see that she-"

"This was a gent. Tall, lanky bloke with-"

"Rowr rowr," said Tom.

"Oh, and we don't allow pets."

"This isn't a pet, this is my companion. His name is Mutton.

"Rising from his chair, the orderly asked, "m.u.f.fin?"

"Mutton."

"Odd name for a cat."

"Don't blame me, he picked it out."

"The cat named himself?""No, actually I was alluding to my husband," she said, smiling: again. "Now might I see Dr. Thorpe?"

"Afraid she's away on a second honeymoon with Dr. Erringer."

"How disappointing. She and I are old chums, and I was hoping-"

"Rowr. Meow." Twisting, Tom jumped free of Hildy's grasp, hit the multicolored plaztile floor and, as planned, went speeding off down a corridor.

"We can't allow cats to run loose in here, Dr. Bushw.a.n.ger." Gibbon hopped out from behind the counter, taking off in pursuit of the disguised robot cat.

"And judging by that fur of his, he's also suffering from a bad case of mange."

"It's actually stress-related." She kept pace with him.

According to the floor plans of the hospital, the Security Control Center was around the bend and at the end of the corridor Tom had gone streaking down.

When Gibbons and Hildy rounded the bend, they saw that the wide plazdoor marked SecCon was standing half open.

"That's not supposed to be unlocked." Gibbons slowed and approached the doorway with caution.

"Be careful, there's no telling what we're liable to find."

"Good gravy!" exclaimed the orderly from inside the room. "All of the security staff plus the secbot are sprawled at their workstations and apparently comatose."

"What about my Mutton?" Hildy crossed the threshold.

"I don't see him, but that's the least of our worries."

"Nope, dimbulb, it should be your top worry." Rearing up atop a rubberoid desk, Tom pointed a s.h.a.ggy paw at him.

"How come you can talk?"

Instead of an answer, Gibbons got a yellowish beam from the cat's built-in stungun.

Jake, who'd done a dissertation on Houdini while earning one of his earliest PhDs, succeeded in un.o.btrusively deactivating his restraints in a little over two hours after he'd awakened in the bowels of the private hospital.

For the past several minutes, giving the impression that he was still trussed up, he remained sitting, watchfully, in his gray chair. He'd done the rearranging of his bonds so deftly and subtly that he was almost certain n.o.body monitoring their cell would've noticed. He planned to remain in the chair until somebody came into the room, then he'd move and improvise a way out.

"Whatever's the matter with you, Pace?" inquired Marsha. "You've been twitching and twisting for hours."

"It's an unfortunate neurological condition," he answered quietly.

"How's that again? Speak up."

"I'm suffering from Reisberson's Syndrome," he said in a somewhat louder voice. "It causes uncontrollable hyperactivity now and then. I'm fine now."

"Good, then maybe you can cease thrashing about and come up with some way to get us out of this dump.""Marsha, don't heckle Mr. Pace," said Marijane. "After all, he wouldn't be in this pickle if he hadn't attempted to find me."

"Good intentions don't cancel colossal screwups, honey."

The metal cell door started to quiver, then began rattling.

Jake straightened up in his chair, alert. Producing an odd keening noise, the door slid open. Shedding the straps, Jake dived forward.

"Sit and meditate," advised Tom on the threshold. "We don't need any derring-do from you, buster."

Smiling, Hildy stepped carefully into the room, stun gun in hand. "It's us, Jake. You can relax."

Taking a slow deep breath, he straightened up out of his crouch. "You heard about my plight, huh?" He commenced releasing the two women from their chairs.

"Steranko found out you were here, and I found out that Marijane Kraft was here," she answered. "Marsha Roebeck is a bonus."

"I take it you're the sensible half of Odd Jobs, Inc.," said the plump woman as she stood up, shedding her bonds.

"We're a team," answered Hildy. "Sometimes I save him, sometimes he saves me. It makes for an interesting marriage-so far anyway."

From out in the corridor a gruff voice ordered, "n.o.body move. A wall of weapons is waiting out here."

Jake called, "Oskar, you're on our side."

A large, wide, tanned man with a s.h.a.ggy blond beard appeared in the doorway. He lowered his stun gun to his side. "We're just getting around to rescuing the lady you mentioned, Jake, old man.".

"I appreciate that, Oskar," he said. "But we've taken care of that. However, you and your boys can help us get out of here safely."

"A piece of cake," said the mercenary, grinning. "You're right," Marsha told Jake. "He's not cute."

Jake grinned, clicking off the vidwall in the media room of their Redding Sector estate. "The Newz account of BotPet's collaboration with Dictator Eagleman was fairly accurate," he observed. "And they gave a handsome plug to Odd Jobs, Inc."

"Best of all," said Hildy, "they didn't mention how you walked right into Greenway's trap, nor how you had to be bailed out by me and a robot cat."

"Sometimes my altruism gets the best of my judgment," he admitted, settling into a rubberoid armchair facing the one his wife was sitting in. "But keep in mind, that when you arrived, I'd freed myself and was about to-"

"Altruism isn't the word I'd pick," she said. "Hubris would be high on my list, followed by vanity, egomania or-"

"Hey, they seemingly wanted a gifted jazz pianist, which I happen to be," he pointed out. "Admittedly I could have been a mite less trusting."

"Letting a frail teenager knock you out and dump you in-""She was nearly twenty."

"Then ending up in the same hospital with Marijane Kraft and that Roebeck woman, all of you candidates for mindwipes."

"Made the rescue operation much easier." He stood up and started to pace the neowood floor. "I appreciate you and Tom helping get me out of there. Also keep in mind that Oskar Tortuga and the crew of former commandos I hired to spring Marsha Roebeck busted into the place shortly after you arrived. So it's quite possible they could've rescued us without your having to-"

'Some rescue team you hired. They almost used a stungun on me."

Jake made a let's-stop gesture with both hands. "Be that as it may, Odd Jobs, Inc. did what it was hired for," he reminded her. "We located Marijane, rescued her, and found out what was going on. As a result, several high-placed BotPets execs- including Greenway and the CEO himself, McKey, are being held for kidnapping and aiding a foreign government-namely Ohio."

"You think what Eagleman, McKey, and Greenway had in mind would've worked?"

"Well, the 1,500 specially modified TomCat bots were designed to work as spies, saboteurs, and occasional a.s.sa.s.sins," answered Jake. "If Eagleman had succeeded in planting most of them in the homes of key political figures and businessmen in Indiana, Kentucky, and Michigan, it could've helped him in his plan to expand the territory of his republic." He shrugged. "Maybe it would've worked, maybe not."

"When Marijane found out what they were planning and tried to track the doctored robot cats, they grabbed her," said Hildy. "She wasn't too smart, trusting Greenway and confiding in him and then investigating this on her own.

Of course, BotPets weren't too bright in the way they went about trying to silence her."

"They didn't know we'd be brought into the case."

"Had they known a formidable bebopper would be unleashed, they might have called the whole thing off."

"What say we call a truce?"

Hildy said, "Okay by me."

He moved closer to her chair, leaned to kiss her.

"Visitors," announced a dangling voxbox.

Jake kissed his wife, then moved to a viewindow and unblanked it.

A sleek crimson skycar was landing outside.

When it settled on the gra.s.s and the cabin door popped open, Hildy said, "It's Marijane Kraft, and she's got Tom with her. I'll go out and escort them in."

"Does that robot cat have to come in?"

"Certainly. He helped save you."