Lucky O'Toole and the White Sunfire

                                             
         Normally I don't date out of my species, but tonight was to be an exception. I had met her at the Blast Off Bar and Grill here on Vega Prime. Joe, the owner, and I go way back, even before the Great Kumquat War in '66, but that's another story. How Joe was able to lure a Pleasure Dancer away from her home planet he wouldn't divulge no matter how drunk I got him. Needless to say, it must have cost him a pretty credit to have her come to work for him.
         Tonight I had a date with her and I was going to find out if the rumors about Pleasure Dancers were true. Reputedly, they were genetically bred and raised for the sole purpose of making the males of their species unbelievably happy, much like the geishas of old Japan, only to such a greater degree that it made geishas look like frumpy old housewives.
         Everything was prepared. I had the apartment's computer adjust the lights and scent the air with a Pytang musk oil, an aphrodisiac that I've used successfully on numerous occasions. Then I programmed the auto kitchenette to prepare a special seven course meal with my killer main course, Lamb O'Toole. It would have been nice to have had some lamb to put in it, but this was Vega Prime, sheep didn't do well on this planet. She'd never know the difference, she was, after all, from Deneb.
         The door announced that I had a visitor. I put on my best smile as I opened the door. Expecting to see my exotic date you can imagine my dismay when the door slid open to reveal my brother George.
         "Thaddeus! I'm glad I caught you home! I need your help."
         For the record, I love my brother dearly. He is the only family I have, but he is a walking magnet for trouble. He has gotten himself into some fairly messy situations over the years and I've always been glad to help him in any way I could. Tonight though all I could envision was a disastrous ending to my date. I was right.
         I helped him to his feet and got some ice to put on his eye. I know I shouldn't have hit him. We haven't seen each other in over a year, but did he have to pick tonight of all nights for a reunion?
         I knew better than to rush George. He would only get flustered and then it would take twice as long for him to say what he had come about. I fixed us a couple of Moonquakes and settled down for the duration. "How's the eye?" I asked.
         "The eye? Oh, fine, fine. Am I interrupting something?" He asked as he sniffed the air. George knows me all too well.
         "Not yet. So, George, how have you been? Well I hope."
         "Oh, fine, fine. The doctor say it's only a rash and I shouldn't worry, but they always say that, don't they?" George was a bit of a hypochondriac.
         "That is good news. I'm sure you'll be fine. Tell me, what are you doing these days? Still selling Vegan Prayer dolls to the tourists?" George was a good egg, but he couldn't keep a job. Nothing really suited his talents, which were few. It's not that he needed money, I took care of all his expenses. What's the sense of being rich if you can't take care of your family?
         "Prayer dolls? Oh, no. They're what gave me the rash. I'm into business for myself now. O'Toole's Detective Agency!"
         "That has a nice ring to it, George. Have you been doing it long?" That should have been my first clue as to George's dilemma and I should have booted him out right then. But, he's my brother and I love him dearly.
         "Oh, no. Not long. As a matter of fact I'm working my first case."
         George wasn't one to volunteer information. You had to ease it out of him, like money from a miser. "Congratulations!"
         "On what?"
         Did I mention that George isn't too bright? "If you're working a case, you must have a client. So, congratulations on your first client."
         "Well, I don't exactly have a client per se."
         I told you it wasn't easy getting information from George. "I see." I didn't really, but I didn't want to upset him. "So, this is sort of a freelance job?"
         "Exactly! I knew if anyone would understand it would be good old Thaddeus."
         Good old Thaddeus. George was the only one who calls me by my given name. Everyone else refers to me as Lucky O'Toole. I've always been lucky. In the right place at the right time all the time. Once, on a whim I bought several thousand shares of stock in a biomedical company right before they discovered the cure to a particularly nasty disease known as Humphrey's Hepatitis.
         Marvin Humphrey was the first human to contract the disease on Vega and had the dubious honor of having it named after him, posthumously. The stock went through the roof. That deal alone netted me a fortune that would last several lifetimes, but that was only one of the many lucky deals I've made over the years. So now everyone calls me Lucky O'Toole, except George that is.
         George, on the other hand, was probably the most unlucky man alive. Any time he bought stocks the company was sure to go belly up. Take Intergalactic Cruise Lines, touted as having the best safety rating of all the space cruise lines. Till George bought five shares of their stock.           
         On the maiden voyage of their newest super luxury liner, it was hit by an asteroid in an area that shouldn't have asteroids. They should have named it the Titanic. It was doomed the second George bought their stock. It's a good thing he didn't buy more than five shares. So I take care of George. After all, he's my brother and I love him dearly.
         "It all sounds very interesting, George. How can I help?"
         "I don't want to be an imposition, but I've hit an impasse of sorts."
         "What kind of impasse?"
         "Maybe I should start at the beginning."
         "That's always a good place to start from, George. Would you care for another drink?" I had a feeling I was going to need several.
         "Have you heard about the theft at the Museum?"
         "Which Museum was that, George." The Vegan's had a propensity for museums. They had a museum for everything under the sun. 
         "The Museum of Unknown Artifacts."
         "Let me guess. They had something stolen, but don't know what it was that was stolen, right?"
         "Exactly! Can you help?"
         "Hmmm. Since cameras are taboo on Vega, did they at least give you a description? How will you know if you find it if you don't know what it looks like?"
         "Oh, yes, they gave me an excellent description. It's white in color, round in shape, about sixty heptas in circumference. I never could translate their measuring system to ours, but they said it would fit comfortably in the palm of a human hand."
         "Do they have any clue as to what it might possibly be? I realize it wouldn't have been in the Museum of Unknown Artifacts if they knew what it was, but they must have some idea as to what it might be."
         "Oh, they think it's a legendary White Sunfire gemstone. Quite rare you know."
         Quite rare indeed, as no one has ever seen one, hence it being referred to as legendary. "And when was it stolen?"
         "It had to be sometime last night after they closed. It was missing when the Curator arrived this morning. He was most distressed. This was a remarkable find and he's hosting a viewing for a lot of important officials tonight. If it's not returned in time, he'll lose face."
         "So, what would you like me to do?"
         "I think it was an inside job. That place is locked up tighter than a farmer's daughter when a salesman drops by." Vegan's lived by a strict moral code. If a female Vegan wasn't a virgin when she married, it was grounds for an instant divorce and great shame befell her family. "No one could have gotten in or out. It still has to be hidden in there somewhere."
         "And you want me to help you find out where?"
         "Well, you do have a knack for finding things and time is running out. The viewing starts in an hour. Can you help me?"
         I do have a knack for finding things. One time I found a, well, that's a story for another time. I hadn't forgotten about the Denubian Pleasure dancer and if I was to get lucky tonight I had to help George find this unknown artifact fast. "Okay, George. I'll help you." What else could I say? He was my brother and I loved him.
         We arrived at the museum in record time. George was right, that museum had the finest security system available and for Vega, that was saying something. George had searched and questioned all of the employees earlier and none had the missing item on them, so it had to still be somewhere on the premises.
         The Curator was near apoplexy. His guests were due to arrive any minute and the item of honor was still missing. George tried to calm him while I looked around. I'm not going to pretend I'm a detective. I had no idea as what to look for. All I could do is trust to my luck and that was iffy with George around. We sort of cancel each other out.
         As I entered the viewing room a Vegan cat scampered out. I loosely call it a cat as it has little resemblance to an Earth cat. It looks more like a cartoon caricature of a cat with a very bad case of mange. Vegan's believed it was a sign of good fortune if one decides to live in your place of business, but a bad omen if one takes up residence in your home.
         In the center of the room was a pedestal. A single light shone down onto an empty red satin pillow. Not knowing what else to do, I walked up to the pedestal and examined it. I had to at least look the part. There was nothing unusual about the stand that I could see. Made from solid wood and intricately carved by hand. On Earth the pedestal itself would be considered a work of art, but on Vega it was as common as dirt. They carved everything.
         The Curator was looking in my direction with what I took as a hopeful expression. I smiled confidently at him and turned my attention to the pillow. What was I going to tell him? The museum was huge, it would take months to search properly and we had but minutes. Then I saw a hair on the pillow.
         Not a human hair or a Vegan hair, but a cat's hair. A Vegan cat hair, that is. Orange and tightly coiled. Quickly I turned and yelled to George, "Follow that cat!"
         Did I mention that Vegan cats are crazy? Crazy as June bugs. They bear their young just as an Earth cat does, but when pregnant they'll build a nest, place an object in it and sit on it as if they were hatching an egg. When we found the nest we found the missing artifact.
         The Curator was delirious with joy. Cupping it in his hands, he raced back to the viewing room in the nick of time. The viewing was a big hit and he gave George a large finder's fee. Everyone was happy. Everyone but me that is. I knew I was too late for my date with the Pleasure Dancer and I'd be lucky if she ever spoke to me again let alone went out with me, but then again, they don't call me Lucky for nothing.
         As soon as I could, I paid my respects to the Curator on a remarkable discovery and left. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't a White Sunfire gem after all, but an ordinary golf ball. Some tourist probably thought Vega had golf courses and brought his clubs along. I wonder what the Curator thought the name that was stamped on it meant? I mean, I've never heard of a White Sunfire called Titlest before, have you?