Authors: Mike Resnick
Soothsayer (18 page)
"She doesn't breathe it, but she has to run it all over her body."
"Okay, that should do it."
The young man turned slowly, his eyes scanning the room, then went back to his original position, staring at the back of the bar.
"All right. Is there anyone else in on this besides King Tout and the alien?"
"There's a man on the ship."
"And that's it—just the three of them?"
"And my friend."
"Has the ship got a name?” asked the man, as the first of the two numbers Penelope had given him came up.
"I don't know its name."
"Registration number?"
"I don't know."
"I hope you don't expect us to force our way into every damned ship that's docked out there."
"I can describe it to you and tell you where it's docked,” said Penelope.
"Why don't you just come along and point it out to me?"
"Because if I leave with you, the Golden Duke will kill my friend before we get there."
"The Golden Duke?” repeated the man. “I've heard of him."
The second number won.
"All right,” said the man. “Tell me how to find the ship."
Penelope described its shape, size and location.
"Next time you see me, walk out of here through that doorway down by the dice tables,” said the man.
"Don't take too long,” said Penelope.
"We're rescuing you and your friend,” answered the man irritably. “Isn't that enough?"
"There's someone else after us,” said Penelope. “They'll be here before long."
"What the hell did you two do—rob the Treasury on Deluros VIII?"
"We didn't do anything,” said Penelope heatedly.
The colorfully-clad man picked up his winnings from the roulette table, stopped at a cashier's window, and walked out of the room without glancing in their direction.
"Time to go to work,” said the man. “I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Please be careful,” said Penelope.
The man smiled sardonically. “It's thoughtful of you to worry about me."
"Be careful that the Golden Duke doesn't hurt my friend."
"He may be a killer, but he's not crazy,” said the man. “When he knows what he's up against, he'll release her without a fight."
"Sometimes he will, sometimes he won't,” said Penelope.
"What are you talking about? We're only going to rescue her once."
"Just make sure that my friend doesn't get hurt."
"We'll do our best."
"You'd better."
He chuckled. “Or what?"
"Or you'll be very sorry,” said Penelope with such conviction that the man's smile vanished. He stared at her for another moment, wondering uneasily what he was getting into, then shrugged and left the casino.
King Tout's ship was still docked at the Starboat when the communications system was activated.
"Request permission to come aboard,” said the Iceman's dispassionate voice.
"You?” said King Tout, surprised. “You came this far—after
them
?"
"That's right,” said the Iceman.
"Go away,” said King Tout into his speaker. “I don't even have them any more."
"
Demand
permission to come aboard."
"Permission denied."
There was a ten-minute silence. Then the Iceman's voice echoed through the ship again.
"I've just placed a small explosive device in one of your ship's exhaust vents. I'm holding the triggering mechanism in my hand. Now, one way or another, I'm coming onto that ship. Whether anyone's alive when I get there is a matter of complete indifference to me."
"I don't believe you,” said King Tout.
"That's your privilege. You've got 30 seconds to open your hatch."
The gambler took 23 seconds, then reluctantly ordered his ship's computer to open the hatch, and a moment later the Iceman and the Forever Kid stepped into the small ship.
The interior had been modified so that there were no walls between the cockpit, the galley, and one of the cabins, and the Iceman found himself facing King Tout in an area perhaps fifteen feet on a side. September Morn, no longer in her special protective suit, sat nude in a narrow vat of tinted liquid and stared at them through alien eyes. The Golden Duke, a laser pistol at his side, paid no attention to the Iceman at all, but stared, tense and unblinking, at the Forever Kid.
"
Is
there a bomb?” asked King Tout.
"Quite possibly,” said the Iceman.
"That's hardly a definitive answer,” said the gambler wryly.
"You noticed."
King Tout shrugged. “It makes no difference anyway. The people you want are gone."
"The people I want are right here,” said the Iceman.
The gambler shook his head. “They're gone,” he repeated. “That little girl made fools of us."
"How?"
"Have you ever heard of the Yankee Clipper?"
"No."
"He calls himself a trader, but he's nothing but a pirate. He's got a quite a fleet, and he works the area around the Quinellus Cluster. No cargo comes or goes that he doesn't get a piece of, no ship of any kind moves in or out unless they pay a tribute. He's the worst kind of thief."
"The worst kind of thief steals people, not money,” said the Iceman.
"I resent that remark!"
"Resent it all you like,” said the Iceman. “Now, what about the Yankee Clipper?"
"He was on the Starboat tonight, at the roulette wheel. Somehow, and I still don't know how, the Bailey girl got him to take her away with him. I didn't even know it until after they were gone."
"And the Mouse?” said the Iceman. “Where is she?"
"They took her, too,” said King Tout. “That's when I found out—when the Duke told me she was gone."
The Forever Kid looked amused. “You let them steal the Mouse from you?"
"There were 40 of them,” growled the Golden Duke defensively. “What would
you
have done?"
"Stopped them,” said the Kid.
"I don't blame my associate,” continued King Tout. “It was the child's doing. I didn't realize it at the time, but if she can see the future, she can
change
it—and that's just what she did, even though I was watching her every minute.” He shrugged. “I'm well rid of the little monster. I won a tidy little sum tonight, and if she could manipulate events the way she did, then sooner or later she could have managed to kill my friends and me."
"Sooner, I should think,” remarked the Iceman.
"She's a positive menace,” said King Tout.
"It's a distinct possibility."
King Tout stared curiously at the Iceman. “You never had any intention of rescuing her!” he said at last.
"What I intend to do about her is my own business."
"You came after us to kill her!” continued the gambler.
"I haven't said that."
"But I can tell, I can see it written all over your face,” said the gambler. “Look, we no longer have her. Let's call a truce and we'll throw in with you. I owe her something for the way she made fools of us tonight."
"You still don't understand, do you?” said the Iceman.
"Understand what?"
"I didn't come after her at all."
"The Mouse, then?"
The Iceman shook his head. “I gave an order back on Last Chance. You disobeyed it. Now it's time to face the consequences of your actions."
King Tout's eyes went wide with surprise. “Then you were never after
them
at all!"
"This isn't a rescue mission,” said the Forever Kid, smiling at the Golden Duke. “It's a punishment party."
"But this is ridiculous!” protested King Tout. “
We're
not the enemy. The enemy is out there—it's the Bailey girl."
"You broke the law,” said the Iceman.
"What law, for God's sake?"
"
My
law.” He turned to the Forever Kid. “Let's see if you're as good as you fear you are."
"Better,” said the Kid, reaching for his sonic weapon.
The Golden Duke's fingers closed around his laser pistol, but he was dead before he could pull it out and aim it. Then slowly, almost casually, the Kid turned his weapon on King Tout and dispatched the gambler.
"Damn!” muttered the Forever Kid.
"Don't feel badly,” said the Iceman. “It was execution, not murder."
"I don't feel bad about killing them,” replied the Kid. “I was just hoping that the Golden Duke would be more of a challenge.” He shrugged. “I don't know where the hell he built his reputation.” His gaze fell on September Morn, who had watched the entire proceeding, motionless and silent. “What about this one?"
"Kill her."
The Kid looked at the naked alien, crouched down and defenseless in her tub of life-giving solution. “Now
that
seems like murder,” he said.
"I have a projectile pistol tucked in my belt,” replied the Iceman. “Either you put her out of her misery fast, or I'll blow a couple of holes in her tub and you can watch her die slowly as the liquid drains out."
"You
are
a relentless bastard, aren't you?” said the Kid. Suddenly he smiled. “I admire your professionalism."
"What I am is your employer,” said the Iceman. “Kill her."
He turned away and set off to explore the rest of the ship, hoping to find some hint of where the pirate had taken Penelope and the Mouse. When he returned, September Morn was dead.
"What now?” asked the Forever Kid.
"I'm going after the Yankee Clipper,” said the Iceman. “You take these three back to Last Chance."
"What's the sense in that?” said the Kid. “They're already dead."
"I want everybody on Last Chance to know it."
"Send them a holograph."
"A make-up artist can work a lot of magic with a holograph,” replied the Iceman. “When you get back to Last Chance, string them up where everyone can see them."
The Kid paused in thought for a long moment. “I don't think so,” he said at last.
"You're working for me, remember?"
The Kid shook his head. “I'm holding more than 200,000 credits’ worth of the Mouse's money,” he replied. “The way I see it, it won't do her any good while she's a prisoner, so she and the little girl just bought me for two more weeks."
"The little girl doesn't need your help,” said the Iceman. “That ought to be apparent by now."
"That's
your
opinion."
"That's a fact."
"There's another reason, too."
"Oh?"
The Kid's face came alive with excitement. “I'd like to face 40 men at once."
The Iceman paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, if you really want to die in glorious battle, you might as well come along,” he said. “Just let me make arrangements for someone to take these three back to Last Chance and we'll be on our way."
"Just a minute,” said the Kid.
"What is it?"
"I know why
I'm
going,” he said. “Why are
you
?"
"What difference does it make?"
"None until we get there,” said the Kid.
"And then?"
"I'm going there to save the little girl, not kill her.” He paused. “If you want to kill her, you've got to get past me to do it."
"Would you really shoot your employer?” asked the Iceman.
The Forever Kid couldn't tell if he was angry or curious or merely amused.
"No, I wouldn't,” answered the Kid.
"That settles that."
"Not quite,” said the Kid. “I quit. I'm not working for you any more."
The Iceman smiled. “I admire your professionalism.” He paused. “Of course, I could just be interested in rescuing the Mouse. I haven't said otherwise."
"I doubt it."
"Why?"
"Because I know you better now than I did before."
"I haven't said that I plan to kill anyone, either,” noted the Iceman.
"What you say doesn't matter,” replied the Kid adamantly. “Just remember: if you try to kill the little girl before the Mouse's money runs out, you're going to have to get past
me
first."
"You do what you think you have to do,” said the Iceman, totally unperturbed.
"I plan to,” said the Kid. Suddenly a boyish smile crossed his face. “It could prove very interesting."
"It could at that,” conceded the Iceman.
They stared at each other in silence for an uneasy moment. Then the Iceman turned to the hatch door.
"Come on,” he said at last. “Let's hire someone to cart these bodies back to Last Chance."
He walked through the hatch, and a moment later the Kid fell into step behind him.
The Iceman made his arrangements for the corpses, and twenty minutes later he and the Forever Kid had formed an uneasy truce and were racing toward the distant Quinellis Cluster in pursuit of the Yankee Clipper and his human cargo.
"Actually, I dislike the word ‘pirate’ and its connotations,” said the Yankee Clipper, leaning back in his chair and sipping an Altairian brandy. “I consider myself to be a simple, hard-working businessman."
The Mouse and Penelope were sitting in a luxurious lounge aboard the pirate ship. There were tables, chairs, couches, picture frames, all of shining, polished chrome. The carpeting—the first the Mouse had ever seen on a ship—was formal and muted in color. The bulkheads were covered with paintings and holographs—both naturalistic and abstract—from a hundred worlds, and all about the lounge were
objets d'art
, each plundered from a different planet.
"Simple businessmen don't own spacecraft like this,” answered the Mouse. “This room alone is larger than most ships I've been on."
"I've been very fortunate,” replied the Yankee Clipper. “And of course, I've been quite aggressive in my pursuit of financial security.” He uttered a brief command to his computer, and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.
"Well, I'll give you this much,” said the Mouse; “you're not at all like any other pirate I've known."
He smiled. “I take that as a compliment.” The Yankee Clipper withdrew a large cigar from a pocket, held it lovingly in his hand for a moment, and finally lit it. “Excellent!” he said. “Anyone who doubts the wisdom of subjugating alien races need only smoke a single Antarrean cigar and he'll become an instant convert to the somewhat hazy principles upon which our beloved Democracy was founded."
