Looking Into It Looking Into It By Ron Goulart THE COMPUTER handed him a piece of lint. Phil McKinney took off his earphones and said, "What?" "You've really got it bad," said the computer. "Your head's in the clouds. You're walking on air." Phil straightened in the bubble chair, clicked off the eavesdrop playback and set the earphones on his desk. He was a large, lanky young man in his late twenties. "Actually, I've never even met her, Gabbo." Gabbo, the big master monitoring computer, said, "You worship her from afar. You can't take your mind off her." Phil said, "I don't have to take my mind off Melissa Marcas. She's part of my job, at the moment. What's that lint for?" The computer was still holding the bit of white fluff between silver wire fingers. "A microphone. You're supposed to plant it on Doctor Hopely's suit tonight." "He's not going to be fooled by this, Gabbo," said Phil, taking the lint mike and carefully slipping it into a plyofilm envelope. "This is really Just a variation on the thread mike and he noticed that the same night I planted it on him." Gabbo said, "I'm not the West Coast office of the National Security Organization, am I, Phil? No, you and I are simply employees of NSO. I pass on to you what I'm told to pass on." "That transistorized wallpaper didn't work either," said Phil, putting the clear envelope into an inner pocket of his tweed tunic. "Dr. Hopely didn't tumble to it, though, did he?" "Okay, he didn't. But he put it up in his rumpus room and all we hear on it is ping-pong games and cartoon shows," said Phil. "I didn't enjoy posing as that gay wallpaper salesman either." "Well, you've got a better cover now." file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ron%20Goulart%20-%20Looking%20Into%20It.html (1 of 11) [10/16/2004 3:33:11 PM] Looking Into It Poking at the earphones, Phil said, "It's not that much more dignified than posing as a fag. Being a stand- up comedian in Poppa Bopper's Skin City. Even by San Francisco standards it's not much of a place." "Still it's perfect for keeping an eye on Dr. Hopely," pointed out the computer. "Since the doctor began to show signs of going blooey in the head he's been spending almost every evening at that nudie bistro." "And so have I," said Phil. "Now I don't get to watch Melissa more than twice a week." "Don't I let you listen to everything the concealed mikes, in her cottage over in Marin, pick up? Don't I let you look at all the film footage her cat sends in?" Phil said, "Melissa's an awfully bright girl, Gabbo. I don't see why she hasn't figured out that the cat is a fake, a clever mechanical simulacra of her Sluggo. Unless . . ." "Unless she's completely innocent," suggested the computer. "Well, I can't say this to most of my superiors in the National Security Organization, Gabbo," said Phil. "Sal Kibbs, the West Coast Director of NSO, is convinced that Melissa is some kind of Brazilian agent. For no reason really." "She's sleeping with Professor Dolan." Phil looked down at the white formica floor of his office. "Yes, I saw the footage on that. Still, that doesn't mean she's a spy for Pro-Brasil. It doesn't necessarily make me jealous even, Gabbo. Because actually Melissa's never even met me. Except for the times when I pose as a substitute lecturer at Marin JC and take over her graduate course in Pop Culture 201. You can't expect her to fall for me in that context." "She fell for Dolan and he's a lecturer at the college too." "But Dolan is a Brazilian spy. She has to fall for him." "You said you thought she wasn't involved in espionage." Phil looked across his black-and-white office at the black-and-silver computer. "Well, I don't know, Gabbo. Sometimes during a war it's hard to think straight. Especially these South American wars. When we had the war with Chile, back in 1980, I was still in junior high and things seemed a lot simpler. Now we're fighting in Brazil and the Brazilians have got this Pro-Brasil spy network and apparently Professor Manuel Dolan is working for them and he's trying to get the secret of a new weapon out of Doctor Hopely, who heads the Disease Weaponry Lab at Marin JC. And Sal Kibbs is convinced Melissa Marcas is also working for Pro-Brasil and will probably serve as a courier if Dolan does get the weapon info out of Hopely. But she's so pretty and innocent looking. Fragile, yet vital. Usually I like blondes. The two file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ron%20Goulart%20-%20Looking%20Into%20It.html (2 of 11) [10/16/2004 3:33:11 PM] Looking Into It girls I was engaged to were both blondes." "Love knows no boundaries," said Gabbo. "The thing is," said Phil, "I know so much about Melissa. Where she grew up, all about her parents, her immunization records, her high school grades, her dental patterns. I've even seen X-rays of her." "You've seen her in bed with Dolan." Phil said, "I know you mean well, Gabbo. I know you're sympathetic, or we wouldn't be having these talks. Please, though, don't keep alluding to that." "The green-eyed monster has reared its ugly head," said the computer. "You're burning up with jealousy." "No, you can't expect a girl to fall in love with you if she's never much met you. Melissa doesn't know I've been looking into her case for the last six months, putting together a massive dossier of audio, visual, and print material concerning her. She doesn't know I spend two or three hours a day going over the films and tapes our hidden monitors bring in. Worse, she doesn't know I'm in love with her." "Every line of work has its heartaches," said Gabbo. "When you have a government job you must put duty before love." "Exactly what Sal Kibbs would say if I confided in him." "Well, I hope I'm not starting to sound like a brass hat." Phil massaged the hollow of one of the gray earphones. "No, you're okay, Gabbo. I think of you as a friend. What with security precautions and all, I can't really talk freely with any of my friends on the outside, friends I've made myself. I don't mean those nitwits I've gotten to know at Poppa Bopper's Skin City. I've been thinking." "About a way to get to know Melissa better?" "Yes, exactly. Afterall, she's probably not really involved in this case, except by accident. Once it's cleared up she won't be under observation." "Probably not." "At least not anywhere near as thoroughly as she is now. I was thinking, knowing as much as I do about her I should be able to use what I know." file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ron%20Goulart%20-%20Looking%20Into%20It.html (3 of 11) [10/16/2004 3:33:11 PM] Looking Into It "How so?" "Well, for instance, I could say to her after a lecture sometime . . . something like, 'I understand you were born in Cleveland, Ohio, Miss Marcas. What a coincidence. So was I.' Something like that." "You weren't born in Cleveland." "But I know a lot about Cleveland, from looking into her case. I could certainly tell her a few street names." "She doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who'd enjoy standing around exchanging the names of old streets in Cleveland." "What I'm outlining, Gabbo, is only tentative. I need some kind of opening move." "An ice breaker." Phil nodded. "After we'd talked a little, I might say, 'How would you like to go to a noise club. Miss Marcas?' " "That's right, she likes to go to those new night spots that feature simulated earthquakes and volcano eruptions and other loud explosions." "She's an active, outgoing girl," said Phil. "Or I could invite her to the Laguna Honda Home when the old retired rock singers are putting on one of their Senior Citizens' concerts. Since she likes Americana." "The Americana thing may just be a cover." Phil said, "I haven't worked the actual approach out. I'm only saying that knowing as much about Melissa as I do, it will be easy to approach her." "Oh, I agree that ..." A white bulb on Gabbo's black surface flashed. "Here's something for you." A panel popped open and five pages of white paper flipped out. Gabbo caught the pages in a silver hand and passed them to Phil. "New material for your act at Poppa Bopper's." Phil frowned, turning the script pages quickly. "You don't write these jokes, do you?" "No, there's a computer down in our Los Angeles office who does your material," explained Gabbo. "He used to be in charge of monitoring the Mafia on the West Coast and he got to know a lot about show business." file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ron%20Goulart%20-%20Looking%20Into%20It.html (4 of 11) [10/16/2004 3:33:11 PM] Looking Into It "He may know the Mafia, but he doesn't know the kind of audience they get at Skin City," said Phil. He began a sigh, cut it off, stood up. "I'll go into the rec lounge and memorize this." The computer waved goodbye. Phil decided he'd better start his bowtie revolving. "Well, that's enough about sports," he said to the audience. "Boy did I come from a tough neighborhood." "Blah blah," cried a curly-haired insurance man at a nearby table. "Yes, that was really a tough neighborhood," continued Phil, taking a step back on the club's pie-shaped stage. "Even the little babies were tough. Yes, when my mother rocked my cradle, she used real rocks. How about that?" "Rock you." That was one of the nude waitresses heckling him. Off in the back of the domed club, lost in thick purple light. Even the help here didn't like him. "And my little brother was so tough he never got baptized. No, every time we took him to church he mugged t...
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