GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 58

The owl lady slipped the tablet back into some pocket beneath her feathers and crossed her arms. She smiled with a mix of concern and satisfaction.
   "No funds."
   The girls gaped.
   "What do you mean no funds?" Zana cried.
   "The place was packed last night!" Rivqua said. "And from what we could see, the casino was doing roaring business as well!"
   "Hoot Gaas oversees the transfer of last night's takings personally," explained the big lady. "Together we split everything up into various accounts and investments. Alas, no money has been transferred in the last twenty-four hours. As far as you're concerned, we're stuck with an empty bowl."
   She began tapping her chin, looking off in thought. "If this keeps up, however, we could be facing a grave situation, a problem of considerable magnitude. A potentially catastrophic circumstance." She wasn't talking about the Blonde Plutoz.
   The girls stared at her.
   "So, no advance," Rivqua said, summarizing the hopelessness.
   "Not possible, I'm sorry."
   "And you can't do credit."
   "Perish the word."
   "How about a short-term loan then, say till next week?" Zana ventured.
   "Do you have any security? Apart from a spaceship in grave disrepair?"
  The girls sighed and exchanged resigned looks, aching with irritation.
   "We got eight weeks of this?"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 57

   "So I am. The rules, as per the bank's own agreement with the Grand Galactica, which predates yours by at least five decades, clearly state that issuing salaries to artists currently engaged hinges on authorization by one of two individuals. One of whom is bumped off and the other mysteriously vanished. You see the problem? It's a legal twist, it is. Heavy on the legal. My, I'll be good and plucked if I can remember a problem like this."
   She tapped her chin in thought and looked quite relieved. Which was fitting for a bank manager, and therefore annoying.
   "With respect, Ma'am," Zana said, exercising admirable restraint. "The Grand Galactica is hardly some little joint in the corner of a back alley! They're good for the money aren't they?"
   The owl lady nodded as if it was a point of personal pride. "Never defaulted once, not in all the years we've done businss. Exemplary record. Enjoys the bank's complete confidence. And you can quote me on that."
   "So what's the problem?" Rivqua burst out. "Their credit's good enough to be printed on a kitchen magnet. All's well then, right? Will you please be kind enough to give us our advance!"
   "It has nothing to do with credit," she said, producing a tablet from somewhere within the folds of her feathery bulk. "Confidentially speaking, it's all about actual, tangible, bankable funds." Her small beak cracked into a brief smile.
   She started tapping and scrolling for information. "Let's see, artist name, Blonde Plutoz. Advance, one third. Just like you said, very good. Eight week booking, excellent. Might get a ticket myself." Another silly little smile.
   "You got it all there!" Zana exclaimed like they were wasting of time. "What's the holdup!?"
   The big owl lady scrolled and tapped away. "Aha! Just as I thought!"
   "What!?"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 56

The bank manager continued, "As I recall, Hoot Gaas, in the capacity of second-in-command of entertainment at the Grand Galactica, is able to sign for artists' salaries in the event of Fadda Bing's absence. Alas, for reasons unbeknownst to us at present, Mister Gaas has taken on the manner of an absentee himself." She opened her hands in a vacant gesture. "Which leads me to a second problem."
   "There's two problems now?" Rivqua asked.
   "Give her another minute and there'll be three," Zana mumbled.
   The banking owl went on, "And that is, we simply have nobody authorized to sign for artists' salaries. And since you are the artists in question, I'm sorry to say, my hands are tied. There's nothing I can-"
   "There's nothing you can do," Zana interrupted, finishing her sentence, and gave her sister a dry glance. "Sounds just like banking to me."
   "We understand each other!" said the feathered lady. "I am relieved. Well then, I imagine that settles our business. I bid you good day."
   "Wait!" Zana shouted, stopping the big owl mid-turn. "This won't do, okay? Not one bit! We didn't bump Fadda Bing off! Nor did we cause Hoot Gaas to vanish! We're here, in Toss Vague-Ass, booked to play the Grand Galactica. We started last night, and today we get an advance payment! From you!"
   "Don't point, dear. I'm older and heavier than you, and your bracelets rattle most furiously. Ooh, my delicate ears."
   Rivqua sang out, "Going off topic, Ma'am!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 55

Being a bank manager she was skilled at the sympathetic nods.
   "I see. How big an advance, may I ask?"
   "One third."
   "And that agreement, it was signed by Fadda Bing, I presume?"
   "Correct," Rivqua replied more slowly, sensing a brake chute about to deploy in the otherwise nice conversation.
   "And now Fadda Bing is deceased," said the owl with a thoughtful tap of her chin again, like she was laying out the facts in her mind, even though they weren't that complicated. "Which is one of those things that occasionally occurs, for better or worse, and is known by insurance adjusters as an act of higher powers beyond anyone's control or choice."
   "It was murder," Zana said, adding with a shrug, "And someone committed it."
   "Indeed, by poisoning, like you said," the owlish banker woman replied. "Most unfortunate. Regardless, it is certainly beyond our control and for the purposes of banking, utterly irrelevant."
   "Okay," said Rivqua with some caution, "how about, for the purposes of getting down to what actually is relevant, let's discuss our money. That should be within our control, right? This being a bank and all? And we being owed some?"
   The big owl sighed deeply and clasped her fingers around her massive tummy. She looked down at her toes. "Since Fadda Bing is the one who signs for the salaries of visiting artists, and he is now unable to sign for it, I'm afraid we have a problem."
   The girls were not liking this. "A problem?"
   The brake chute was fully inflated.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 54

   "Not a likely murder suspect then," said Zana after a brief silence. "Good thing we got that cleared up. While we anxiously await his making an appearance somewhere, anywhere, why don't we move on to the second matter?"
   "The money," said the owl lady without hesitation.
   "It's about time we got some."
   The bank manager offered a sympathetic nod to this.
   "According to our agreement, we're entitled to an advance on the first week's pay after out first show," Rivqua said. "And our first show was last night."
   "Hm, that's unusual, for the Grand to agree to such a concession," the bank lady said, tapping her chin. "May I ask what prompted such a request in the first place?"
   "Our tour ship's in the shop," Rivqua explained. "We ran into volcanic dust on the approach to our last engagement. Clogged up drive filters and fried radars. Our autopilot could give you the details. As it turned out, the local space port, which was basically a patch of tarmac with a tool shed in the corner, couldn't finish the job, but they sure finished our money. We got to Toss Vague-Ass on a half-limp. Came in too low, too fast. Had to talk our way out of a speeding ticket."
   "Ha! Well done."
   "Long story short," Zana finished off, "the Star Bucket is in a well-equipped hangar at the Vague-Ass space port, with its guts spread out over workbenches and clever robots looking at them, scratching their shiny heads. And we're flat broke. Won't last till the end of the week. There's the prompt. For the request. In the first place."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 53

Rivqua and Zana stared at each other with complete incomprehension. This wasn't making any sense. The bank manager laughing her owl head off at the notion of her cousin, Hoot Gaas, being a murder suspect.
   At length she petered off. Residual chuckles came up like small coughs.
   "I'm sorry, Ma'am," Rivqua said, reopening contact. "I think you have us at a disadvantage. 'Cause we're not following one bit."
   Wiping her big round eyes the owl lady said, "No dear, I'm sure you're not. Ooh, I needed that. My my. You know, back where I come from, that's what we call a hooter."
   She stopped in her tracks.
   "A 'Hoot'-er!" she repeated. And off she went once more.
   The robot clerk was perplexed by the manager's behaviour. He came up to the girls.
   "This is most irregular. Should we alert a software specialist? A physician?"
   Zana shook her head. The laughter slowed quicker this time. Owl lady collected herself, straightened her tufts, patted down her plume, made an effort to resume professional conduct.
   Rivqua helped her. "I take it that Mister Hoot Gaas is not a likely murder suspect. In your opinion."
   "Let me tell you something about Hoot Gaas," the bank lady said, back in charge. "He is incapable of hurting a fly. Why, only last year he turned vegetarian. Can't stand violence or blood. Silly fellow. Fear of conflict is what it is. That's why he tucks himself away in that control room! Keeps an eye on the floor using monitors and sharp eyesight. And has to look away whenever security gets to the rough stuff. Poor lad. Hoot a murder suspect? Ha! Not likely."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 52

The owl lady's bushy eyebrows shot up. "The police have a favourite suspect? Really? Who, pray tell, would that be?"
   Rivqua looked at the big feather-clad female. She wasn't making the connection. At the same time she seemed almost guilty. Too guilty. Rivqua put it down to default behaviour of owlish bank managers faced with any challenge regarding the unknown.
   Zana went in with customary delicacy. "Hoot Gaas of course! Fadda Bing gets smoked and the same day Hoot goes missing! He never goes missing! His second-in-command at the casino made that clear, and he seemed to be a pretty educated fish. A bit odd, wouldn't you say?"
   Owl woman stared at them both.
   "Hoot Gaas? A murder suspect?"
   "We don't know for sure," Rivqua said, raising a finger. "But I can imagine the detective inspector's got both his brains working that angle-"
   Before she'd finished the bank manager burst out laughing. Took off with a guffaw that rocked her feathery bulk from top to bottom. The robot clerk turned to look what was going on. This was not a familiar display.
   The girls looked at each other. For want of grasping what was funny they joined in, applying mild chuckles to the moment.
   Rivqua said, "Yeah, suspicion of murder, eh? How about that?"
   "You might not believe this, Ma'am," added Zana, "but we've got two brains too, between us, and we came to the same conclusion!"
   The lady owl slapped her thighs, howling away.
   "Hoot Gaas!" she shrieked. "A murder suspect!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 51

   "The police detective would love to hear this," Rivqua said. "You wouldn't happen to have like, a favourite suspect?"
   "Of course not! They're all favourites. In fact, most of them are customers."
   "Come on, you said we're speaking off the record," Zana pursued, also dropping her voice. "You can tell us. Who's the most favourite of the favourites?"
   "I cannot pass out information on my customers, nor issue any personal opinions, especially not about my most important customers."
   "So the favourite ones are the most important ones?" Rivqua said.
   The owl lady threw out her big feathered arms. "This is banking!"
   "Okay," Rivqua sighed and dropped the investigative line. "Then there's the issue about money."
   "I registered that, but before we go there let me hear the other news. You told me the first news, which was bad, officially. Now give me the second, which statistically should be good. Officially. The first explains why and where Hoot Gaas is detained, he's preoccupied with the clearing up of this grisly incident to remember our business meeting. Mystery solved."
   "Well no, you see, Ma'am, the second thing is, Hoot Gaas is not back at the Grand clearing up the 'incident'. He has gone missing. No one has seen him or heard from him. His secretary doesn't know, nobody knows."
   "Missing? Since when?"
   "Yesterday afternoon," Zana said. "He popped in on our sound check, where he got the call about Fadda Bing. He seemed distraught by the news and returned to the control room."
   "Or so we thought," added Rivqua. "Somewhere around there he appears to have vanished. And has not been seen anywhere in the Grand since."
   Zana said, with a knowing wink, "I'll bet the police detective's got a favourite suspect of his own now."

EDSBERG PARK - SCHOOL'S OUT! Thanks For a Great Night, Aliens! Love Ya!

"Yup, we're from way up there, folks." 

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 50

Again Rivqua and Zana exchanged looks. The moment felt all too familiar. Like they were repeating a role they hadn't asked to play in the first place. Bringers of sad tidings.
   "Ma'am, first we have some bad news," Rivqua began. "And it's about Fadda Bing. He's dead."
   "Bumped off, good and proper," Zana added with a 'go figure' kind of shrug. "I remember it like it was yesterday. It was yesterday actually."
   The girls stared at the owl-lady, waiting for a reaction, bracing themselves in case she would react like Hoot Gaas did and bounce herself off the floor like a rubber ball. She had the shape to pull the stunt off comfortably. But she didn't. Instead, she took this information in for a blank second, then took a deep thoughtful breath and stood as if she were at the head of a conference table with a firm opinion about things. She cleared her throat.
   "Speaking officially, I'm obliged to say that is very unfortunate. Yesterday, eh? Dead how?"
   "Poisoned."
   The bank manager chuckled, sending a wobble through her feathers.
   "Colourful!"
   "It was."
   "Now, speaking off the record," owl woman continued and lowered her voice as if amused by the whole thing, "I can't say I'm surprised. The man had a knack for creating enemies in this town. The backs he stabbed to make the Grand Galactica the centre point of Toss Vague-Ass, all the arms he twisted, ligaments he snapped, beaks he bent, I tell you they're too many to count."
   "Really?" Rivqua said, getting interested. "So you're saying there could be several suspects?"
   "Dozens."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 49

The clerk bot spoke into a headset that had materialized out of his head.
   "Yes, Ma'am. The Blonde Plutoz. Music artists from the Grand Galactica. They claim that Mister Hoot Gaas is with you and you will shortly be having lunch together, like regular sweethearts, though the meaning of that eludes me. They wish to address a matter concerning a fat load of money. Very good, Ma'am."
   Rivqua and Zana looked at each other. "Ma'am?" they both mouthed in curious disbelief.
   No sooner had the bot hung up and his headset slotted back into his head, than an office door burst open behind him. From it emerged a largely built owl creature with round eyes and lots of feathers.
   "The Blown Kudos! Hoot told me about you. I was about to call the Galactica, give that Fadda Bing fellow a piece of my mind. But now you're here. Good! Finally someone who can tell me where that scoundrel Hoot is today." The matronly alien stared at the girls. "You can tell me that, can't you? You do know, don't you?"
   "No, Ma'am, I'm sorry to say we can't, and don't," Rivqua said. "We were hoping you could, and would."
   The owl shoved her arms into her waist and shook her head vigorously. Her long ear tufts fluttered. "That over-worked cousin of mine is hopeless! I have to tell you, he doesn't usually do this. He is very punctual. Together we oversee the preliminary placement of the casino's takings, on a daily basis. The Grand Galactica turns over significant funds and not a day is to be wasted on poor investing. Then we lunch, if there's time. Today there's time, but where is the silly fellow!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 48

The trip to the bank took the form of a power walk. It had to. Rookie status during off-season meant no limo service and cab fares in Toss Vague-Ass were severe in the hour leading up to lunch. So up the boulevard they paraded, elbows swinging, single-minded in the ambition to discover why Hoot Gaas was off in nowhereland - along with the band's advance.
   "We'd like to speak to the manager, please," Rivqua told the robot clerk manning the enquiries and loans and investments and safety deposit box desk. He looked the part.
   "And what is the nature of your request, Miss?"
   "A missing person and a fat load of money," Zana said, leaning on the counter.
   "The money, whose would it be, if you don't mind my asking?" Hope glinted in the bot's eyes.
   "No we don't mind," Rivqua said. "It would be ours."
   The spark dwindled. "I see. And this missing person, does he have your money? You might be better served by the police station in the next block-"
   "Yes he does have our money! And chances are he's in a meeting with your manager right now."
   "Excuse me?"
   "And then they're popping off to lunch together," Zana said. "Like regular sweethearts. Call him up and see."
   The robot processed this for a second, then moved to press a button. "Sorry, your names are...?"

Live 9th June at School's Out, Summer In The Park Festival, Edsberg, Sollentuna!

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 47

The Blonde Plutoz stared at the robot. Apart from the unpleasantries of the past twenty hours or so, with a creepy murder welcoming them to town, the situation began to echo a certain dubious showbiz tradition - getting screwed on your first gig.
   Far from okay, this pat on the back was still kept up as a tradition in some parts. Like a rite of passage or something. Big dogs pointing out their lamp post going, "See that, whippersnappers? That's our post! And that's our wee your smellin', see? Wanna pee on our post? Oh you do, do you! Well we gonna take your bone, see? Show you who's boss! Woff!" That kind of thing.
   The Grand Galactica was hardly Blonde Plutoz' first gig. The stage of silly rites was passed long ago. It was their first in Toss Vague-Ass, however. Perhaps that was it. Like in all entertainment capitals past merits meant nothing, despite getting hired because of them. Showbiz in a nutshell.
   "Nothing anybody can do, eh?" Zana said after running a lap around these thoughts for a few seconds. The secretary bot carried on typing. Then she stopped and looked up as if her processors tripped over a fact worth mentioning. So she mentioned it.
   "There is one procedure that Mister Hoot Gaas does every day."
   Rivqua didn't look impressed. "Probably not today though, wouldn't you agree?"
   "Not here at the Grand Galactica. At the bank. Mister Hoot Gaas takes care of financial matters before lunch every day. And then has lunch with the manager. Whom I think he rather fancies."
   At this Rivqua and Zana expressed a glimmer of hope.
   "You're saying it's just possible he might keep that appointment?"
   "It would not be illogical."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 46

After breakfast the following morning Rivqua and Zana took the elevator up to the penthouse offices to check on things.
   "No, and it is most unsatisfactory," said the secretary bot, head tilted down. She hadn't heard from Hoot Gaas in the past sixteen hours and forty-three minutes either. "I have no procedure for the current status. It's a complete anomaly. In seven hours and seventeen minutes I can declare a formal emergency. Until then my duties are as normal. I'm sorry." The robot sat down and began shuffling papers on her desk. She did look sorry somehow, in a delicately programmed kind of way.
   "Anomalies are for outer space," Zana said, glancing at Rivqua. "We're on the ground and we got one here too? What is this?" She looked back at the sad droid. "Have you notified the police?"
   "I will as soon as it becomes a formal emergency," replied the bot, taking a stoic turn.
   "Thing is," Rivqua began, "Our contract says we're supposed to get our first instalment today, this morning, like an advance on our first week's pay. That's the agreement made with Mister Bing who, being dead, unfortunately is in no position to swing his pen and sign for it. We understand that Hoot Gaas has the authority to clear artists' payments, but he's gone and apparently took his authority with him. So what do we do?"
   "There is nothing you can do and there is nothing I can do." the secretary said, scanning documents and tapping away on a holographic keyboard. Her appearance was that of a mature office professional, with manner and design meant to inspire confidence and capability. But right now she looked more like a preschool principal acting like the playground wasn't on fire.