Free Alan Dean Foster by Alien Nation Page B

storage.
    The stuff was still malleable enough to come off on your fingers, though, as Sykes quickly discovered. Looking disgusted, he hunted for something to wipe his hand. Francisco looked over.
    "Problerns?"
    "There's some kind of goo all over these boots." He held out his sticky fingers for examination. "What is this stuff?"
    Francisco studied his partner's outstretched hand. "If I am not mistaken, it is a resin."
    Sykes stopped hunting for a loose rag or towel and looked up in surprise.
    "Oh. A resin. Well sure, I mean, that's obvious, isn't it?"
    Francisco wasn't finished. "Newcomers working with methane at oil refineries must paint it on their boots to protect against sparks that could set off an explosion."
    The detective's jaw fell slightly. "How the hell do you know that?"
    As it turned out, there was a perfectly good reason. Francisco was knowledgeable, if no genius.
    "A large number of my people were hired by refineries in the Los Angeles-Long Beach area because the methane fumes that are produced as a byproduct of certain refining processes are not harmful to us. Our lungs can tolerate a number of different gases which humans would find harmful and sometimes even lethal. This fact is widely known." Sykes bridled only slightly at the implied criticism. "My spouse's brother is one such worker."
    "I see. And you saw the stuff on his boots one day and asked him what it was." Francisco nodded.
    "We frequently exchange information. It is the only way we can learn about the world in which we find ourselves."
    Sykes's thoughts were racing. "So the Slag they're cut-56
    ting into upstairs worked at a refinery. Just like Hubley worked at a refinery." He glanced significantly up at his partner. "That suggest anything to you, George?"
    "I am not unaware of the line of thought you are following, Matt. -
    Sykes was nodding to himself, obviously pleased. "I'd say that 'possible'
    connection between the two cases just got a hell of a lot more possible.
    Okay, next step." He was silent for a moment, gazing at the far wall.
    Then he blinked and turned back to the silently waiting Francisco. "I gotta go talk to the wife of the Slag storeowner who got blown away last night."
    "I believe I should be the one to interview the widow."
    "Yeah, sure, you can be there too. Probably need you, if her English ain't too good. Might even be a question or two you'd think to ask that wouldn't occur to me."
    "You do not understand. I am saying that I think I should interview her alone. By myself, yes?"
    "Yes-I mean, no! Why the hell ... T'
    He stopped himself. Francisco wasn't smiling knowingly, but he might as well have been. Sykes was among the first to recognize that his bedside manner at such times could be less than sympathetic to the victim of a recent tragedy. Interviewees tended to shrink from him when they ought to be spilling information. Relatives of homicide victims were the worst.
    It made no difference that the subject of their visit was going to be Newcomer. Where those kinds of emotions were concerned there was no difference between species.
    Sykes had his pride, but he wasn't dumb. He wanted information, not ego boosting. "Great, fine," he muttered. "You talk to the wife."
    Francisco looked pleased, but had the courtesy not to comment.

    V
    The last time they'd seen the minimart it had been aflame with police lights and noise and activity. Now it was silent, the shattered windows boarded over with three-quarter-inch plywood. After several rings the door was opened with obvious reluctance by an elderly Newcomer woman taller than Sykes. He stood behind Francisco, letting his partner do all the talking in the softly hissing Newcomer language.
    My day to play chauffeur, he mused as he strolled through the empty store.
    The shelves were empty now, the stock having been sold or given away. A For Rent sign was already stapled to one of the plywood panels out front. Empty and deserted, the minimart didn't look Re much.
    There were a few