"And who might you be?" the police inspector demanded.
"That is Mister Wizzbipp, from Grand Galactica's technical support," the robot secretary told him. She raised her voice a little. "What are you doing here, Mister Wizzbipp? This floor is restricted to senior staff only, you know that."
"You're disturbin' an interrogation in progress," said the detective like interrogations were all he ever did and it'd be great if the rest of the world would let him conduct them in peace. Then he narrowed the eyes of one head and pointed. "Unless you got somethin' pertinent to add to this here case."
"Not likely he does, Inspector," said the bot. "We keep lower rank personel out of the inner dealings of the organisation."
The purple-skinned alien ignored them. His worried eyes were firmly on Rivqua and Zana as he drew toward them, hat in hand.
"Miss Blonde, Miss Plutoz," he said and tipped his head to both. "I am Wizzbipp. There is a rumour going around that you're leaving the Grand, cancelling your residency. Today. It so worried me, and some of us fellows downstairs, that I simply had to find out from you, in person. Forgive me. I pray it isn't true. Please say it is not true."
The girls stared at him a moment. His words and manner touched them. In a way that, considering the circumstances, felt like rather a nuisance. Rivqua cleared her throat.
"Uh, yes. That's- that is correct. Unfortunately it is true. Thing is you see, we and the Grand have reached a kind of impasse, as one occasionally does, and well- you know I'm surprised this news had spread so quickly," she added with a meaningful glance back at the secretary, who received a similar sharp-edged question mark from the detective.
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