Balance of Terror Page 11

“Sixteen to one.”

  Sixteen! She had just netted them ninety-six kilo-credits. The blood drained from her face.

  “Would you care to place another bet?” the spinner asked, her voice full of encouragement.

  Moon violently shook her head. “No, certainly not. I shouldn’t have even made this one.” The last sentence slipped out, startling Moon with its truth. Now, all she and Srin had to do was get out of there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Moon took her winnings from the table and added it to the chips already in her pouch.

  “C’mon,” she told a staggering Srin, “let’s get home.”

  They were watched as she manoeuvred the both of them to the cashier’s booth. Moon knew it, could feel several searing gazes tracking their progress, trying to trip them up.

  “Nice winnings,” the cashier said from inside his barred cage.

  “Beginner’s luck,” Moon replied, trying not to look around.

  “How do you want this?”

  Keeping more than a hundred kilo-credits on one disc was asking for trouble. Moon did some swift division in her head. “Split it up. Six discs.”

  “I’ll need to deduct fifty credits per disc. Standard policy.”

  Charging fifty credits to set up one credit disc was extortion, but Moon knew she didn’t have a choice. “Fine.”

  It took another five minutes for the cashier to initialise and load up all six discs.

  “Sure you don’t want to continue your lucky streak?” he suggested, sliding the small tokens across to her.

  Moon picked them up, slid three into a pocket sewn into Srin’s undershirt, then did the same for herself. “I’m sure.”

  Her feet were trembling when they exited the den. Dusk was about to fall, which meant that Gauder would be preparing the tanks for departure…and no doubt impatiently waiting for them to return.

  “Follow me,” Srin whispered.

  Subtly leading her, he guided her through the market, making abrupt turns between tents while surreptitiously looking behind them. It was a slow-motion version of the chase on Slater’s End, where they had evaded the Space Fleet soldiers guarding them and scurried underground, down into the extensive tunnelling system beneath the city, in order to avoid capture.

  At one point, Srin turned down an alley of cramped darkening tents, pulled them deep into a shop selling animal hides and navigation units, then slipped out through a small flap in the back when the merchant wasn’t looking.

  “Now we head back to Gauder,” Srin said at a more normal volume.

  They quickened their steps.

  Moon was never so glad to see the two dust-streaked tanks as she was when they entered the transport holding area. There may have been more modern flitters and even some larger shuttles, but the solidity of Gauder’s transports reassured her.

  With barely an acknowledgement, she walked over to ‘her’ tank. Gauder was carrying out some last-minute checks, and she knew from the pattern it made on his small data pad that he was tabulating fuel usage.

  “Ready to roll?” she asked him briskly, stopping by the frontmost loop of treads.

  Gauder started in obvious surprise. “Keen, ain’t yer?”

  “Are we ready?” she repeated. On the other side of the tank, she heard Srin climb up into the passenger side of the cabin.

  He grinned. “Had enough of the Meet, have yer? Righto then, lady scientist, whatever yer say.”

  Moon hoisted herself up the tank’s front cabin ladder, pausing only for a moment when she reached the top. “Let’s go then.”

  They stopped three hours out from Kushin Meet.

  Moon, jumping down from her cabin, thought that Gauder had found a sheltered spot to spend the rest of the night, an observation strengthened when he brought solid fuel from his tank’s cargo hold, resting the bricks in between nests of twigs and branches. The modern fuel blocks were odourless but Moon was developing a fondness for the smell of charred wood.

  They sat companionably around the fire and Gauder handed out his usual snack of meat jerky, slicing it into thick ribbons with a large, obviously sharp knife. Unlike the first time when it had been offered, Moon now reached for a dehydrated strip without any hesitation.

  “So what did yer think of Kushin Meet?” he finally asked.

  “It was a busy place,” Srin replied. “I didn’t think so many people lived out in the Open.”

  “Aye, and yer only saw a few hundred of ‘em. Most of ‘em are home, building or training in weapons, keeping their territories clean, dreamin’ of a day when Marentim will be theirs again.”

  “How often does Kushin Meet converge?” Moon asked.

  Gauder nonchalantly scratched his cheek with the back of his knife. “Oh maybe twice a year. It’s a very well-known gathering in some circles.”

  There was silence for a few minutes.

  “I, er, hear you two got a bit lucky,” Gauder finally remarked.

  “How do you mean?” Srin asked. His voice was steady.

  “Well, Kushin Meet’s the place t’ come if yer’ve a mind for makin’ a profit. I meet several buyers there every time I visit. And if yer hankerin’ after a bit o’ gamin’, well the Meet will see to yer needs that way too.”

  Moon swallowed her rag of meat. “I wasn’t aware that we were forbidden from interacting with anything at the Meet,” she said.

  “Oh now, lady scientist, don’t go be puttin’ words in me mouth. I never said anythin’ about steering clear of anyone at the Meet. I figured the both of ye were smart enough not to get yerselves into trouble and, mostly, I was right.”

  In the reflected, dancing light from the flames, Moon saw Srin frown. “Mostly?”

  “It’s like this, sick boy. Ye may think that a wind blows fast through the Meet, but it’s nowhere as fast as news. Especially interestin’ news.”

  Using his foot, Gauder shoved a branch further into the fire. “Interestin’ news like you pair winning big at the gambling den. Care to tell ol’ Gauder about that?”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Moon said. “Srin said he was feeling lucky and, quite frankly, we were going a bit crazy, cooped up in that tank day after day.” She shrugged. “We decided to have some fun.”

  “Fun, eh? And ye were just lucky?”

  “Of course. What else could it be?”

  “Just luck? It couldn’t be, say, usin’ sick boy’s brain here to calculate particular odds? To predict where the wheel would stop, what card would turn up? Y’see, lady scientist, as I was preparin’ the tanks for moving out, it occurred to me that I saw a bit of what you two can do. Remember that Republic scout we saw when we were visitin’ with the Obar tribe? And sick boy here comin’ up with some fancy equation to explain its movements?

  “Now, I may be nothin’ more than a trader, but I can put two and two together as good as the next local.”

  His expression was set and the glittering knife in his hand deepened the mood of menace.

  “Why don’t you be handing over your winnings?”

  Moon gasped. “Handing over—”

  “For safe keepin’,” Gauder interrupted. “Ye don’t know what kind of lowlife skulks around.”

  “But—”

  “Moon,” this time it was Srin talking, “I think we should do as he says.” With exaggerated movements, Srin reached into the pocket of his undershirt and withdrew a credit disc. It was small and metallic but represented seventeen kilo-credits, more than enough to buy Gauder and his tanks four times over and still have cash to spare.

  She must have made an involuntary sound, because the gazes of both men swivelled towards her.

  “Don’ be worryin’, lady scientist, I’ll take good care of our money.”

  It didn’t escape her that Gauder now claimed part-ownership of the disc. She was relieved that she had thought to divide up their winnings among several discs, but she didn’t do it just so they could hand over a sixth of their winnings to the arms dealer!

  She watched,
with a sinking feeling in her gut, as Gauder looked at the disc, turning it over in his thick fingers, before slipping it into a trouser pocket.

  “It wasn’t luck, was it?”

  He addressed the question to Srin, obviously thinking that they could speak more plainly, man to man.

  “No,” replied Srin.

  “And are ye limited by the kind of game t’ play?”

  “I wouldn’t know. This was my first attempt. We just thought we’d try something that looked a little easier, so we chose the spinner game.”

  “Nice odds on that one if ye guess right,” Gauder mused. “And you can do this,” he waved a hand, “this calculatin’ whenever ye want?”

  “It’s a skill I have. You can compute daily numbers for your tanks, I figure out higher mathematics.”

  “Higher mathematics. Me ma always told me I wouldn’t amount to much if I didn’t pay attention at school.” He grinned savagely. “Guess who didn’t take her advice?”

  “I don’t see how this changes anything,” Srin said. “You have our winnings, which can only add to your profit on this trip. We’re a month away from our rendezvous point, by your reckoning. Let’s just continue on our way and, at the end of the journey, we part ways. We leave Marentim, split the money we won and you’ve cleared enough credits to retire on.”

  Gauder yawned and scratched his jaw with his free hand. “Well, it ain’t quite as simple as that, unfortunately. Being where it is, near the rim o’ Republic space, Marentim’s not the cheapest planet to live on. And I still have rivals who are always after a piece o’ my action. Nothing’s certain on Marentim. So I’m thinkin’….”

  Moon could almost see the cogs of his brain turn, and she held her breath. Killing them would be counter-productive. Wouldn’t it? Especially when he didn’t appear to know exactly how much they’d won.

  “How about we take a little detour, the three of us?”

  “Detour?” Moon knew her voice was high and shrill, but she didn’t care.

  “Aye. If we time our travel right, we can visit another two, maybe three, Meets over the next few months.”

  “Months?” she repeated.

  “What’s it to yer?” he snarled.

  Shifting position, he pointed his knife in Moon’s direction. “Look here, high ‘n’ mighty lady scientist, when yer gone, I’ll still be here, scrabblin’ in the dust. Does that seem like a fair thing to yer, especially for the kind o’ help I’m providing? But ye help me out, get me some more of that easy cash yer scored at Kushin, and I’ll get you to yer damned rendezvous point. A few months later than ye expected, maybe, but yer’ll get there, just the same.”

  Moon wasn’t so sure. If news travelled as fast as Gauder said, wouldn’t the other Meets hear about her and Srin in a matter of weeks? And if people knew that Gauder was carrying a lot of money, wouldn’t that embolden his rivals?

  “The best thing to do is to continue with the plan,” she countered. “Going around to all the Meets, trying to cheat them out of money is not only stupid—”

  Gauder shot to his feet.

  “I’ll say what’s stupid,” he roared.

  He looked down at them. “What do yer know of my life? The two of you coddled by the Republic before yer decided to kick it in its teeth and run? Yer think I can’t tell that yer’ve never worked an honest day in yer lives? Never had food stolen from under yer nose, or money cut from yer pocket? Aye, it may be beautiful here, but it’s also beautiful on other planets where I won’t have to watch me back every minute of every day.

  “We make the detour, visit other Meets. And you, sick boy, from now on, yer get to stay in my tank with me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The next few days crawled by. Moon felt as though she had been thrust in a cage, hot, dusty and without an escape route. Gauder kept an eagle eye on the two of them, Srin had fallen into another crash period, and she was beating herself up over not taking advantage of Gauder’s earlier interest in her to press the topic of where their destination spaceport was located.

  “Stupid,” she muttered to herself as she followed Gauder’s tank northwards. They had been heading west, but that was of little help now. How far west? Due west or would they have taken another turn before they reached the spaceport? If only she had somehow…encouraged Gauder. But how could she, when it would have felt like betraying Srin? She had swallowed a stomach full of deceit on the Differential, and had found herself incapable of sustaining a long-term masquerade. And, because of such a failing, Srin was now trapped in another vehicle, ready to be exploited by a man who should have been their guide.

  When they stopped to camp and eat on the third night, Moon was relieved to see that Srin was conscious. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed his solid presence next to her until it was gone.

  “Don’t go lookin’ at me like that, lady scientist. Once I get what’s mine, ye’ll be free to go.”

  Moon wasn’t aware she’d been glaring at Gauder across the fire until his words broke into her reverie.

  “And when will that be?” she asked in waspish tones. “When you’ve exploited Srin enough to buy this planet?”

  Gauder looked at Srin, seated next to him, and grinned.

  “She’s a fiery one, ain’t she?”

  “She has reason to be angry,” Srin replied calmly. “We contacted you in good faith, to escort us across Marentim and, instead, we find ourselves your slaves.”

  “Come now, that’s a tad harsh, ain’t it?”

  “We carry out your physical labour, Mr. Gauder, for which we get no recompense.” Srin met the other man’s gaze squarely. “Further, you are in possession of both our money and the knowledge that can get us off this planet. To be honest with you, we had escaped the Republic for less.”

  “There’ll be no talk of escapin’ while I’m around,” Gauder shot back. He raised his voice to reach across the fire. “And I’m not a greedy man. All I’m after is a decent sum o’ money to see me into a nice retirement. I’ll keep my word, you’ll both be free t’ go after that.”

  But was that true?

  Srin pondered the question the following day after clambering into the lead tank’s cabin. The wish for a good life was one he understood well. After all, that had been the reason he’d left his betrothed, Yalona, to travel to the Tor system in the first place. He knew that if he could only interest an institution in the most influential system in the Republic, his life would take a turn for the better. But he hadn’t calculated on a government that could analyse his vast potential for calculation even before he did. And he certainly hadn’t taken into account Hen Savic, fellow scientist, concocter of a drug that wiped his memory every two days, and his handler for almost twenty years.

  Right now, Gauder might be feeling pretty smug. Srin could relate to that feeling. But the man’s greed was blinding him to other factors, such as the certainty that news of Srin’s winnings at Kushin Meet was speeding to other gatherings. Srin knew he might be able to pull off one more similar stunt, but that was all. The locals weren’t stupid and they’d be able to put the data surrounding two phenomenal winning streaks together without any trouble. And what would happen then? Would they call in the Republic to deal with the three humans? Would they handle the matter themselves? Whichever way it went, it meant increased notoriety when the only thing keeping Moon and Srin alive and out of the Republic’s clutches was obscurity.

  “It’s not going to work,” Srin commented as Gauder started the engine and put the tank into gear.

  “What’s not goin’ ter work? Yer talkin’ about the rear axle again?”

  “No, I’m talking about your plan to use me to make yourself rich.”

  “Don’t go worryin’ about that, sick boy. I’ve got everything figured out.”

  Srin shook his head. “I’m sure that whatever Meet you’re heading for now will have heard of me by the time we arrive.” He shifted in his seat. “You have our winnings, Gauder. Take it. There’s enough there for you to
settle on almost any resort planet in the Republic. What more could you want?”

  Gauder shoved the tank into gear with force and it shuddered before getting underway.

  “What more, sick boy? I’ll tell yer what more. What’s due ter me. Think I like bein’ stuck on this rock? Havin’ ter hide every one o’ my possessions or they get stolen? Knowin’ I’m part of a species that the locals wouldn’t piss on if we were on fire? The planet may be breathtakin’, but it demands a heavy price for its beauty. I’ve been sloggin’ in this forsaken desert fer forty years now. Seen what few friends I had die ‘n’ crumble to dust out here. That ain’t goin’ ter be me.”

  “Then take the money and go. Now.” Srin’s voice became insistent. “Take us to the spaceport then come with us. Leave this planet if you hate it so much.”

  “Yer make a tempting offer, don’t get me wrong, but it ain’t enough. Not for what I’ve suffered, what I’ve lost.

  “We head for Hausel Meet next.”

  Srin sank back in his chair, deflated. Gauder’s stubbornness reminded him of what Moon had told him of Hen Savic, and Hen’s inability to see that what he was doing to Srin was a form of torture. Had Hen’s face held the same look of obstinate blankness as Gauder’s did now?

  They had to escape. That was the thought uppermost in Srin’s mind. He didn’t want his fate to be bound to the actions of a bitter man consumed by avarice, and knew Moon felt the same way. But how were they going to plan their getaway when they were both in separate vehicles?

  The thought consumed Srin for the rest of the day and he was no closer to an answer when night fell. Gauder might say he hated Marentim, but Srin knew that was only a part of a more complicated story. For three days he had been cooped up with the merchant, and he watched for the third time as Gauder switched off the engine near an old campsite, littered with stones and branches, then just sat for a moment. The tank was always positioned so it faced west and they would both be silent as Gauder contemplated the expansive vista beyond the front window. Srin wondered if Gauder knew that the Open was the equivalent of his church, and what would happen if he ever left it.