Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3) (8 page)

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Authors: Mike Resnick

BOOK: Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3)
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“Presents, sir?” said Pampas.
“Like a bomb,” explained Cole. “Lieutenant Domak, while they’re making sure the ship is secure, I want you to see if you can rig their navigational and weapons computers so that we can operate them from the
Teddy R
.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Domak, saluting.
Val and Pampas reported ten minutes later that the ship was secure, and there were no unpleasant surprises in the offing. Domak, operating in concert with Christine and Briggs, had switched control of the
Carnivore
to the
Teddy R
’s bridge within half an hour.
“Well done,” said Cole. “I want you all to return to the ship now.” A moment later he was in contact with David Copperfield. “Well?” he said. “Did you get what we needed from the Duke?”
“Yes, Steerforth,” said the alien. “The Rock’s most powerful rival is the Blue Devil, whose home world—well, headquarters world, anyway—is Meritonia III.”
“The Blue Devil!” snorted Cole. “Where the hell do they get these names?”
“I wouldn’t be too quick to belittle that particular name, my dear Steerforth,” said Copperfield. “He controls seven worlds with an iron hand. Or claw. Or whatever. I have no idea if he belongs to your race or some other.”
“Makes no difference,” said Cole. “All we needed was the name of that world.” He cut the connection, then contacted the bridge. “Christine, is Meritonia III in our navigational log, or are we going to have to hunt up its official name?”
“Let me check,” she said, scanning her data. “Here it is, sir—Meritonia III.”
“How far are we from it?”
“Approximately thirty-two light-years, sir.”
“Fine. Send the
Carnivore
there by the most circuitous route, which is to say, don’t let it pass within two light-years of any other star system. Or better still, check with Pilot, who seems to know more about wormholes than the computer does, and see if there’s one near here that can take it to Meritonia in a hurry.”
“I’ll ask him, sir.” There was a full minute of silence, and then Christine’s image appeared again. “He says the Blaindor Hole could get it there in less than five hours, sir—if I can find a way to enter it.”
“Do your best, Christine,” said Cole. “And let me know when it’s on its way.”
He cut the connection and suddenly found himself looking at Sharon’s face. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was the Security Chief in the flesh and not her holographic image.
“I brought you some beer,” she announced, entering his office. “Then I decided you’d think it was rude to drink alone, so I brought some for me, too.”
“Thanks,” said Cole. “I could use some.”
“You really think this is going to work?” she asked.
“It ought to,” said Cole. “We’ll know in less than six hours.”
“I’d love to see the look on the Rock’s face when he finds out that he’s just attacked the Blue Devil in underwhelming numbers,” said Sharon with a chuckle. “What do you think he’ll do—run or fight?”
“He’s got to join the battle,” said Cole with absolute conviction. “If he runs, he’s lost his empire, such as it is, and he’s not getting it back.”
“Do we care who wins?”
“Not really. I suppose we’d prefer the Rock to lose, just to relieve the minds of the miners on Djamara, but it makes no difference. If he loses, we’ve fulfilled our contract, and if he wins, he’ll be pretty banged up and we’ll be waiting for him when he returns to Djamara.”
It happened exactly as Cole had predicted. The
Carnivore
was blown apart before it could reach Meritonia III’s atmosphere. The Blue Devil immediately declared war on the Rock of Ages, who raced to Meritonia to join his remaining ships in an all-out battle against the Blue Devil’s more powerful fleet.
The war lasted twenty-one minutes. When it was over the Rock of Ages and all five of his ships had been blown into history, and the Blue Devil’s fleet had been reduced from eleven to three.
Cole contacted the miners and told them that the crisis was over and that the
Theodore Roosevelt
had accomplished its mission, then got in touch with the Platinum Duke to apprise him of the situation and remind him to start auditing the company’s books.
“That’s absolutely remarkable!” said the Duke. “And the amazing thing is that you did it without firing a shot!”
“We fired one shot,” Cole corrected him. “We didn’t hit anything, or even try to, but it served its purpose.”
“You know what I meant,” said the Duke. “It’s just remarkable! Why do you act so calm, like it was a daily occurrence?”
“It’s not a daily occurrence,” replied Cole. “But it’s nothing to get excited about. There are a zillion species, sentient and otherwise, in the universe. God gave every last one of them teeth and claws. Only a handful of us got brains. It seems to me it’d be criminal not to use them.”
“No wonder the Republic wants you dead,” said the Duke admiringly. “You make too much sense.”
8
 
It was two days later, and Cole, Sharon, Val, and David Copperfield were sharing a table, and a round of drinks, with the Platinum Duke at his casino on Singapore Station. Forrice had accompanied them as far as the only Molarian brothel in the sector and had then taken his leave of them, promising to rejoin them later.
“Remarkable!” the Duke was saying. “Just remarkable!”
“Perhaps we should have charged them more,” suggested David Copperfield, only half joking.
“It wasn’t
that
remarkable,” said the Duke with a smile. “But it was a nice few days’ work.”
“And now you and I should sit down and discuss the next commission,” said David.
“We
are
sitting down,” noted the Duke dryly.
“You don’t really want to discuss such things in public,” suggested David.
“If
I
tell people not to get close enough to listen, they’ll keep their distance.”
“It must be nice to own a world,” said Sharon. “Even an artificial all-metal world like this one.”
“It has its compensations,” replied the Duke.
“I’ve noticed,” said Cole.
“It also has its liabilities,” continued the Duke. “For example, this is my casino. I own the profits, but I also have to cover the losses.”
“You’ve been losing?”
“I’m being cheated, I know that. But I don’t know how—and the gentleman who has been cheating me six nights in a row is . . . well ... formidable.”
“Where is he?” asked Cole.
“Over there at the card tables,” said the Duke. “He’s a head or two taller than anyone else.”
“I know him,” said Val, studying the man in question. He stood close to seven feel tall, was well dressed and well muscled, and was carrying two hand weapons that were visible and probably more that weren’t.
“You do?” asked David.
“Well, I know
of
him, anyway,” she said. “He’s Skullcracker Morrison.”
“I remember him!” said Sharon. “Didn’t he used to be the freehand heavyweight champion of the Antares Sector?”
“Yes, until he got a little excited in the ring one night and killed his opponent, the referee, and three policemen who tried to arrest him.”
“He’s obviously not fighting anymore,” said Sharon. “I wonder what he’s doing for a living?”
“Oh, he’s still cracking skulls,” said Val. “He’s just not doing it in the ring.”
“Muscle for hire?” asked Cole.
“Right.”
“Almost everyone here is carrying some kind of weapon,” noted Cole. “I don’t know what good all his strength and skill can do him.”
“He doesn’t ply his trade here,” said the Duke. “He spends his money here—except that he’s winning
my
money instead.”
“How do you know he’s cheating?”
“Every game in this casino gives the house a five to ten percent edge—and that one,
Khalimesh
, gives us twelve percent. I don’t care how good you are or how lucky you are, if you come to the tables six nights in a row, you’ve
got
to have a losing night.”
“Looks complicated,” observed Cole.
“Seventy-two cards, eight suits, no numbers, all face cards, a dealer and four to six players,” replied the Duke. “I think the Canphorites invented it, but it’s become very popular out here on the Frontier, even with Men.” He paused. “I just wish I knew how he was doing it.”
“Bar him from the casino,” suggested Sharon.
“I value my few remaining human parts too highly,” replied the Duke.
Val stared at the Platinum Duke for a long minute. “If I prove he’s cheating, prove it in front of witnesses, will you give us half of what we recover from him?”
“Absolutely!” said the Duke promptly.
“‘Us’?” said Cole. “If you can spot what he’s doing and make it stick, the money’s yours.”
“I’m probably going to need a little help,” she explained. “If it’s a
Teddy R
operation, then the spoils should go into the
Teddy R
’s coffers.”
“Do you know how he’s cheating?” asked David Copperfield.
“Not yet,” answered Val. “But I’ve been hanging out in joints like this since I arrived on the Frontier fifteen years ago. If he’s cheating, I’ll spot it, all right.” She turned to the Duke. “Give me a couple of hundred Maria Theresa dollars or Far London pounds.” He looked surprised—as much as his metal face could display
any
reaction. “I can’t see what he’s doing from here,” continued Val. “You can deduct it from what you owe me when I’m done.”
“And if you can’t spot it, the money is forfeit,” said the Duke, handing her the money.
She pushed it back across the table to him. “If you’re going to be that cheap, get someone else to show you how he’s robbing you.”
The Duke sighed and pushed the money across the table again. “When you put it that way . . .”
“All right,” she said, picking up the money and getting to her feet.
She walked over to the card table where Morrison was playing, purchased some chips, and bought into the game. The dealer shuffled the deck, dealt out the hands quickly and efficiently, and then called out the various cards and bets.
Val won two tiny pots and lost five larger ones, four of them to Morrison, then returned to the Duke’s table.
“Here,” she said, handing him some chips. “Remember to subtract them from the two hundred dollars.”
“You spotted it already?” asked the Duke.
“There’s only one way they can be working it,” said Val.
“They?” repeated the Duke.
“The dealer’s in on it,” she said. “Morrison can’t be doing it alone.”
“How are they working it?”
“The dealer’s got to be using a shiner,” said Val.
“Impossible!” said the Duke. “I’ve got holo cameras zooming in on the dealers’ hands. If he was using one, we’d have spotted it.”
“What’s a shiner?” asked Sharon.
“A tiny mirror,” explain Val. “He keeps it below the deck, and as he deals, Morrison will get a quick look at the face of each card as it comes off the deck.”
“I know what a shiner is,” said the Duke, “and I’m telling you that no one’s using one. You want to check the holos?”
“Why bother?” said Val. “You’ve checked them.”
“Then you agree they can’t be using a shiner and you’ve wasted close to two hundred Maria Theresa dollars,” said the Duke.
“I didn’t say I agreed,” replied Val. “I said I didn’t see any reason to check the holos.”
“You insist that the dealer’s using a shiner?”
“That’s what I said.”
“If we search him and don’t find it, will that satisfy you?”
“I wouldn’t think it will satisfy
you
,” said Val. “I thought you wanted your money back. Well, half of it, anyway.”
The Duke threw up his hands in exasperation. “I am totally confused!” he said. “Captain Cole, she works for you. Do you understand her?”
“I
serve
with Cole,” said Val. “I work for
me
.”
“But to answer your question,” replied Cole, “I find that she isn’t wrong very often. If she says she knows how they’re cheating, I’d be inclined to believe her.”
“Then what’s your next step?” asked Duke. “Do you want to search the dealer?”
“That’s up to Val,” said Cole.
“Not much sense searching him,” she replied. “I watched him for seven hands. He never went to his pockets, or even his mouth or ears, and he’d never chance trying to palm it while he was shuffling the cards. If it falls onto the table, he’s dead meat five seconds later.”
“Then I don’t understand . . .” began the Duke.

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