Andrews ordered an airflivver which he met in the hotel parking lot, then went winging south toward San Diego. Less than an hour later, he was landing on the roof of the San Diego Airborne Law Enforcement Station. He was met by Officer Eliza Lewis, an attractive redhead who served as the liaison to the international government, and who then drove him to the downtown police station where Kerrigan was being held.

“She was picked up at the airport,” said Lewis. “She was carrying a concealed weapon without a permit and when her name came up on the wanted list, we held her. She also had two hunting rifles with her, though they were properly checked in.”

Pearl Kerrigan was a plain looking woman, though not unattractive. Her dull brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail and her already thin lips were pressed together. When Andrews entered the interrogation room to find her waiting, she didn’t move. She didn’t look up. She simply stared at the top of the table.

“Miss Kerrigan,” said Andrews.

She startled in her seat and slowly raised her eyes to look at him. Then just as slowly, she lowered them back to the table.

“Miss Kerrigan, I’d like to ask you some questions.”

There was no response.

“Why did you come to San Diego? Why did you leave your house in Oxford? What can you tell me about the Ladybugs?”

Kerrigan didn’t move. It was as if she was mesmerized. He continued to ask questions but they all remained as unanswered as the first. Finally he tried a different track.

“I’ve been to your house. I’ve been in your celler.”

She looked up at him. “Have you read the book?”

“What book?”

“Ask them.”

He stepped out of the interrogation room to find Officer Lewis observing from behind the two way mirror.

“Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”

“No, but I can see if she had a book with her when she was arrested.”

Kerrigan had indeed had a book in her handbag when she had been arrested. It was an eight by ten hard bound volume of blank pages which she had filled with tightly written cursive. In the center of most pages were the lyrics of Ladybugs songs and around them were annotations and bizarre sketches. Andrews took the book with him back into the interrogation room.

“Is this the book you were talking about?”

“That is the book.”

He opened the cover and flipped through a few random pages. “What about it?”

“You have to read it.”

“Can’t you just tell me what it says?”

“Read it. Then come back tomorrow.”

Leaving the room with the book, Andrews sat down at a vacant desk and picked up the phone. When the long distance operator came on, he gave her his contact number for Agent Wright in Hollywood. He had to wait about a minute for the connection and for Wright to answer.

“How’s it going?”

“Kerrigan’s a wacko and I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything out of her until tomorrow. I’m going to have to stay over.”

The local police had removed the robber’s hoods. They were all women in their early twenties. Andrews stood looking at them for a long time. When he found Ep!phanee standing next to him, he realized that he had almost forgotten she was there.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes. I don’t think they even shot in our direction, did they?”

“No.”

The police took both their statements and then released them. They climbed back in the car and the driver took them to the Royal Continental. Neither of them had much to say along the way. Once at the hotel, Andrews met briefly with Wright to fill her in and then he went to his room to begin filling out the inevitable paperwork.

When the Science Police officer opened the door to his assigned room, he decided that a major mistake had been made. Instead of the simple room that he had been assigned in the other hotels, and which had suited him just fine, he found a spacious suite. He stood at the entrance of a large central room with features of both a living room and dining room. A roaring fire was already burning in the gas fireplace next to a fully stocked bar. He realized for the first time that he was shivering, having been out in the pouring rain for most of the evening and not having had the chance to dry off.

He walked to the fireplace and held out his hands to warm them. He stayed in that position until the front of his legs became unbearably hot, and then he turned around and warmed his back. Just as his back was becoming too warm and his front was feeling once again cold, Ep!phanee walked in from the bedroom. She wore nothing but a gauzy nightie through which her tattoos were clearly visible.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood,” he said.

“In the mood for what? Don’t worry. I know just what you need and I’m going to take care of you.”

“I didn’t realize that you were the ‘taking care’ type.”

“Of course I am. Look how well I take care of myself. First you need to take off those wet clothes. Portland isn’t like the Caribbean. If you get a little rain on you there, it dries off in minutes. Here, you’ll catch pneumonia.”

“It does kind of sink right into your bones,” he replied as he began peeling off his still damp clothing.

“You need to get into the hot shower,” she said, stepping behind the bar and filling two shot glasses from a whiskey bottle. “First have one of these.”

When Andrews came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a very fluffy complimentary robe, he found Piffy seated at the table with a pot of hot coffee. She had already poured him a cup. When he sipped it, he found that she had laced it with more whiskey.

“I think you need to get right to bed,” she said.

“I have paperwork to take care of.” He went to his luggage, which was sitting just inside the door and found his portfolio, bringing it back to the table. Halfway there he stopped and looked back at his luggage. “What am I doing in a room like this anyway?”

“I had you upgraded. If you’re going to be with us, you’re going to go first class all the way. It’s one of the perks.”

Andrews sat back down at the table and began filling out the seven forms necessary when an agent discharged his weapon, all of which required long written statements and all of which were sandwiched with carbon paper and other sheets so that they were produced in triplicate. When he finished the second, he stopped to warm up his coffee and noticed for the first time that Piffy was no longer in the room. He found her, once he was completely done, sprawled across one side of the bed, her bare, very white bottom staring at him from below her nightgown hem. The California king was large enough though that once he stripped off his robe and climbed in, he didn’t notice her presence the entire night. When he woke up, she was gone.

“Good morning.” Ruth walked into the bedroom carrying a tray. “Come on, sit up. I’ve bought you breakfast.”

“I could just get up.”

“No. You need breakfast in bed after the day you had yesterday. You need to be pampered a bit.” The tray contained two eggs, two strips of bacon, hash browns, a waffle with blueberries, milk, and a cup of coffee.

“I don’t know if I can eat all this.”

“Just eat what you want.” She pulled a chair away from the wall and sat down to watch him eat.

She was already dressed for the day, wearing hip-hugger bellbottoms and a halter-top, both of which resembled the Union Jack, white platform shoes, and a red headband holding back her dreadlocks.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied

“I’ve hardly seen you in three days.”

“Well, we’re together now. Do I get to spend the day with you?”

“Actually, we’re supposed to meet later this morning and work out the schedule, but Piffy thought you needed somebody to pamper you this morning.”

“And you thought you would be the one to do it?”

“I jumped at the chance.”

“I can take care of myself. I’m a big boy.”

“You’re telling me,” she said with a sly look. “Now don’t dawdle. Eat your breakfast.”

Andrews finished, though he had only a bite of his waffle, before even thinking to look at the clock.

“Good grief, it’s after nine.”

“Don’t be in a rush. The other girls won’t be up for at least another hour and our radio-vid interview isn’t until one.”

Andrews spent the morning with Ruth. They ate breakfast and then they took a long walk around the Doric House grounds. Just after noon, he and Wright left and flew to Bloomington, Minnesota to go over the security at the Metropolitan Stadium. That evening’s concert went off, like the one two nights before in Atlanta, without any major problems. Afterwards the band returned to Doric House for one more night.

Having been, for the most part, too busy for dinner, Andrews was just beginning to think about ordering a snack from the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. He opened it, half expecting Ruth with another hot fudge sundae. Instead he found Ep!phanee, still in her costume from the concert.

“Hey lover, what’s up?”

“Good evening. I was just thinking of ordering something from the kitchen. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

Picking up the house phone and asking for a connection, he ordered sandwiches and hot chocolate.

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you,” Piffy said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his.

“Really? You didn’t look particularly anxious.”

“I had to let Ruth have a chance to get to know you. And she did… finally.”

“Now you’re back with me?”

“Only for today. Tomorrow, you spend with Penny.”

“I’ve already been with Penny.”

“Yes, I know she snuck into your room for a quickie, but you need to spend some time getting to know her. Relationships aren’t just about sex, you know.”

“Really? So far, that has not been my experience.”

“You sound a little testy about it,” she said, leaning back and looking him in the face. “Most guys would give anything to be in the position you’re in.”

“Maybe. I think it’s one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ situations. I just get to know you. I like you. I want to spend more time with you, but I can’t because I have to be with Ruth. Now I want to spend more time with her and I can’t. I suspected that this type of relationship would be too much for me and I’m finding out that I’m right.”

“It will get easier once you know all of us and we can work out a schedule.”

“This just isn’t natural. I think men are wired so that they are in love with one woman at a time.”

“Well, of course it’s not natural. It’s not natural that men are almost extinct either. But that’s the way it is. We have to make due the best we can with what we have.”

“Hmm.”

They spent the remainder of the evening talking about less weighty matters—what life was like in the Virgin Islands, favorite places to visit in Europe, and what the weather was going to be like on the west coast. They spent the night together, and for the first time in his life, Andrews shared a bed with a woman without having sex.

The next morning Andrews left Piffy sleeping in his bed while he shaved and showered, but she was gone when he came out of the bathroom. He met briefly with Wright but there was little to discuss. The entire group was treated to a champagne breakfast. Then it was off to the airport again. The dirigible was fueled and supplied and waiting to go. It lifted off as soon as everyone was aboard, flying directly north.

Andrews made a quick inspection of the ship after seeing that his few personal possessions had been carefully stowed back in his cabin. He then went to the bridge and watched the crew at work until he was called away to answer a telephone call. It was from Evan Larkin, the man he had met in Bolingbrook. Larkin wanted nothing more than to talk for a few minutes. Andrews let him ramble on for a while and then confirmed that he had heard the news regarding the arrest of his former fiancé.

“Yes, the poor girl. Elke and Inga are going to see if we can’t get her accepted into a mental health facility.”

“That would probably be for the best. Well, goodbye Larkin.”

“If you’re ever in the Chicago area, give me a call. We could have dinner.”

“Thank you, I will. Goodbye.”

He started back toward his cabin, but was intercepted along the way by Penny.

“Hello beautiful,” she said.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m feeling fine. We’d like you to come back to the port side lounge for a minute. The band has something they want to run by you.”

She led him to the lounge where the other three Ladybugs were seated, as well as Alexa Rothman. When he stepped in the room, they all looked up and smiled. He sat down on one of the overstuffed couches, as Penny took the spot beside him, tucking her legs up under her.

“We have something we wanted to share with you,” said Piffy, “before anyone else knows.”

“Oh?”

“We have the Asia tour coming up in two months,” explained Alexa. “It should really be called the Asia-Australia tour, since after Singapore; we’re going south to hit Melbourne and then Sydney.”

“But then we’re going to the enclaves,” Steffie spouted.

“That’s right,” said Ruth. “After Sydney, we’re going to Tasmania, South Island, and then Cape Horn.”

“We were going to wait until the South American tour to do the Cape Horn enclave,” continued Alexa, “but we might as well do it at the same time as the others.”

“That’s very exciting.”

Lying on the bed, Andrews watched as Penny got up and walked naked across the small cabin. In the confined space, she looked truly larger than life. She was tall. She could not be called a small woman in any sense of the word, but there was not a pound that was not exactly where it should have been. She had the kind of hourglass figure that he had read about in novels. Wide eyes and a patrician nose gave her a face that while beautiful, would never be described as cute or even pretty. She was Junoesque, an image that was enhanced when the moonlight streaming into the window turned her pale skin the color of plaster. While her body had not a single tropical fish or other tattoo, it was adorned. Everywhere Piffy had a piercing, save her bellybutton, a bodily feature that her band mate did not share, Penny had two or more.

“This was a surprise to say the least,” said Andrews.

“A good one?”

“Yes. I didn’t know if you were interested?”

“Hopefully that question has been adequately answered. Just because I sing about women loving each other doesn’t mean I’m not interested in men… a man anyway.”

“You don’t prefer women?”

“Most women today have female lovers. They just pretend they don’t. That was the point of my song. But I’m reaching that age where family life starts to have more appeal. Besides, sex is like buying an automobile. If you want something really sporty, you have to be able to handle a stick.”

Andrews laughed.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked.

“Very much. You are a talented lover.”

“I know I am. I’m always satisfied.”

She stepped back to the cot and gave him a deep kiss. He allowed his hands to run down the length of her soft, smooth body.

“Good night,” she said, starting for the door.

“Where are your clothes?”

“Didn’t bring any,” she smiled. Then she stepped naked into the brightly lit hall beyond and closed the door after her.

Andrews fell back asleep and when he woke, light was streaming in from outside. He got up and looked out the window to see that they were on the tarmac at Minneapolis-St. Paul. Three hundred yards away was another massive dirigible sporting the blue Pan Am globe. Shaving and showering in the small but functional bathroom, he got dressed and reported to the portside lounge for his morning meeting with Wright.

“Good morning,” he said.

In reply, Wright held up a newspaper. “Ladybugs Triumph!” was plastered across the top in two-inch type and the entire front page was filled with stories of the tour. Down near the bottom right hand corner though was a picture of him. He stepped over and took the paper from his partner’s hand and read the caption.

“The Ladybugs’ valiant protector, Science Agent John Andrews. Shit.”

“Could be worse. Could be ‘lover,’ ‘boy-toy,’ ‘backdoor man’.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this. Brussels is going to want to pull me off the case now.”

“Probably, but they can’t. They’re not going to tarnish the reputation of their only male Special Agent. Besides, I’m telling them in my report that it will be an advantage for us.”

“How will it be an advantage?”

“It gives our would-be assassin another target.”

Breakfast was served aboard the Rosalie Morton, though only the band, crew, and the Science Police agents took part, the airship crew having much work to do maintaining and resupplying the great craft. It was a breakfast buffet—a long table covered with warming trays full of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, cottage fries, French toast, pancakes, and cheese blintzes. As Andrews gathered his choice of morning foods together, he found himself with Penny on one side and Steffie on the other. The former was wearing a tee shirt and bell bottom jeans, her platform sandals making her taller than Andrews, while the latter wore a red and white striped halter top, matching hot pants, and red knee-high boots. Steffie leaned over to look at Penny’s plate just as she was adding a second scoop of fried potatoes.

“You sure you need that much?”

“There’s not that much food on my plate,” replied Penny.

“There’s a lot of ass in those jeans though.”

“Bitch, don’t even…”

“Ladies, ladies,” said Andrews. “Please don’t fight.”

“You’ll get yours later, you boney-assed bitch,” said Penny, turning on her heel and walking to the table.

“You’re not her protector now, just because she gave you a little face.”

“I’m just trying to enjoy my breakfast.” Andrews added two slices of bacon to his plate and then put two on Steffie’s. “Here, you need to keep up your strength.”

Returning to his seat, Andrews directed most of his attention at his food. Did everyone have to know exactly what went on in his room at night? He supposed that was what life was like for Evan Larkin. Even now, he had the peculiar feeling that people were watching him, but whenever he looked at someone else at the table, they weren’t. They were talking about the concert the previous night or the upcoming concert in Bloomington. They weren’t even looking at him. The more he thought about it though, the more he decided they weren’t looking at him on purpose. He finished his food and left the dining room, taking the stairs down to the lowest level of the ship and then exiting though the boarding ramp to the tarmac.

The massive golden dirigible was at the end of a long row of similar craft; the Pan Am was the closest. The local police had set up a perimeter around the Rosalie Morton, but to Andrews’ mind, it should have been larger in diameter.

“Are we safe?”