“Damn it,” Jason agreed, looking at his. “And I look horrible in pink, too.” He grinned at her. “But you look darn good in blue.”
They couldn’t go undressed. At least everything came out right when they transmuted. Jason shuddered to think what might result if they ever mixed up their clothes.
Down in the Quartermaster Department, the techs again analyzed the entire requisition system, from the listings to the request forms to the synthesizers that produced replacement gear for G-Force. And, as always, they found nothing. No viruses, no misprints, no idiots who couldn’t find their butts with both hands and help.
“Well, at least they’re the right color this time,” Princess noticed.
“I wonder if this is helping our cover, or if it’s Spectra trying to flush us out. Yours could have stayed blue.”
1-Rover-1 couldn’t help it. He was a hopeless romantic, besides having his own ideas about who should be second-in-command of G-Force.
When the order came through, again, he corrected the obvious mistake that the humans had made about who should be G-2.