Hard Luck Hank: Screw the Galaxy (3 page)

I headed to meet Zadeck. I gave him a tele, but
I liked talking face-to-face. People can say whatever they want to a little
screen on your wrist. If you’re there in person, I find it’s just a completely
different atmosphere. He said to meet him at one of his clubs.

I spoke to a few familiar faces on the train.
One guy wanted to use me as a reference for bodyguard work, but I declined as
gracefully as possible as I didn’t know him well. Another guy passed along an
offer of a permanent job, but I declined that also. My motto for survival on
Belvaille was: don’t take sides. It’s what had kept me employed all these
years.

Gangs were unusual things. They were like
fraternities, only meaner. They often had their own clubhouses and uniforms and
they could be as tight-knit as families. I could never understand why guys gave
so much to such a random collection of people. Why they were willing to die for
some emblem that wouldn’t even notice they were gone.

I stopped along the way at a soup spot to
refill the tank. I normally ate more than an average person, but not nearly as
much as my mass would indicate. Another anomaly of my mutation.

The soup was on the house, because that was one
of the occasional perks of being me. I really tried to take care of the people
who worked on Belvaille by tipping well, as it never hurt to have too many
friends. But the proprietor in this case was refusing my money.

As I entered Zadeck’s block, the populace and
atmosphere changed immediately. They had painted all the walls garish colors
and there were statues and sculptures everywhere.

Not everyone was a violent criminal on
Belvaille; some were merely thieves or economic rule-breakers who wanted to
enjoy the spoils of their labors. Zadeck, and the boutiques of his block,
provided the comforts those folks were expecting.

Women walked with parasols and big frilly
dresses. Men had on the most constrictive, flamboyant suits. To me it seemed
like the wealthier you were, the more your clothes had to be nonfunctional. I
doubted any of these people could even scratch their ears without falling down.

In one sense, they looked like easy prey for
the scum of Belvaille. But the pit in my gut told me how and why Zadeck stayed
above the fray and how this block was as secure as just about any place in the
Colmarian Confederation.

It was true there was no Colmarian on Belvaille
I was afraid of. However, one non-Colmarian did frighten me, and that was
Zadeck’s bodyguard, Wallow.

Wallow was a native of Thereze. One of about a
thousand who were allowed off their home planet. A galactic-wide war almost
erupted when their species was first discovered.

Therezians were undyingly loyal. They weren’t
stupid, but they were just faithful for reasons no one could quite fathom. Once
they attached themselves to someone, they stayed with them until death, doing
nearly whatever was requested.

And since even a short Therezian was still over
thirty-five feet tall and resistant to anything short of snorting a black hole,
their service was pretty noticeable. All the major empires agreed that Thereze
would be one of the few truly neutral planets with no emigration allowed, other
than the handful that had already left. Because no one relished the idea of
Therezian conscripts marching into battle.

Zadeck acquired Wallow, no one knows how. It
was the unlikeliest of arrangements having a Therezian on such a backwater
space station as Belvaille. Wallow could literally, I mean literally, be a king
on some planet. He was one of a thousand in the known galaxy.

Zadeck had absolute power—within reach of
Wallow’s considerable arm. Though for all Wallow’s glory, it had been made
absolutely clear to Zadeck by all the bosses and even Garm: you can keep your
block of fancy stores, we’ll stay out of it. However, if Wallow steps foot into
our turf, while we might not be able to hurt him, we’ll kill you.

Wallow waited outside of Zadeck’s pad, the very
building I had to enter. Great. He often patrolled the block, the aristocracy
of Belvaille relishing the protection of his shadow. Yet they weren’t so
haughty they didn’t get out of his way lest they get squashed under his
Therezian feet.

I approached the gilded door. A hand about the
size of me touched down, blocking my path. It possessed only three long fingers
with no digits.

“What you want?” the voice above me boomed.

Therezians didn’t have many bones, the joints
being weak points for their ponderous weight. They had no noticeable necks and
I heard they only had five vertebrae. Their brows and cheekbones and chins
protruded, presumably because they fell on their faces a lot and it was
protection, but it made them look like they were always scowling. Their clumsy
hands prevented them from being exactly great toolmakers. Other than that, however,
they looked like an average Colmarian blown up to extreme proportions.

The ritzy citizens of Belvaille calmly moved as
quickly as they could away from us.

“I’m here to see Zadeck. He told me to come.”

“Who are you?” Wallow asked.

He had bent down, his face a “mere” twenty feet
away now. I knew Wallow. He knew me. But I also knew he didn’t like me.

Therezians were a gentle race. But there are
jerks in any species. Wallow would likely be the equivalent of a homicidal
maniac among Therezians. Which just meant he had a bad attitude by Colmarian
standards. If you gave me fifty years and infinite pickaxes, I doubt I could
even break Wallow’s skin, which is why it not only frightened me but confused
me why he gave me such a hard time.

“Wallow, it’s me, Hank. I just did a job for
your boss.”

Wallow squinted, and he crouched closer as if
doing so might make our conversation private instead of being audible to anyone
within three blocks, which it was.

“Boss don’t need you, he has me. You watch your
step.”

I briefly thought it was ironic him telling me
to watch my step. But I merely nodded and went inside the door after Wallow had
straightened.

Inside it looked like a palace. Every surface
was covered in rare metals and jewels that reflected the light so much it hurt
your eyes. Servants were deployed polishing and buffing, and they were as much
a decoration and sign of wealth as the items they worked on.

I made myself known to the security guards. The
two types of people I dealt with were the bosses, because they gave me jobs,
and the hoodlums, because they were the job. Anyone with a gun was a potential
buddy as I saw it.

Zadeck was in his office, looking twitchy,
which didn’t seem good. He was a thin guy with long, slick hair. He dressed
impeccably in tight black synth, a few silver chains draped across his chest.
He was stylish in an androgynous way. I had only dealt with him a handful of
times and never in person. Zadeck was the kind of guy who liked to work through
his underlings, which is how I had unfortunately come to know Wallow.

“I want to thank you for taking care of all
this, Hank.”

“It’s not taken care of,” I replied.

“What do you mean? They’ve already delivered
most of the product.”

“But those shippers haven’t been paid. They’re
holed up in the Marine Marina.”

“I don’t see what’s left,” Zadeck said
dismissively.

“You still owe them money.”

“How’s that your affair?” he snapped.

“What is it with you all today? I’m trying to
save everyone a bolt to the head and people keep throwing rocks at me.”

Zadeck looked stunned. One of the bouncers
popped his head in.

“Any trouble, Hank?”

“You don’t work for him, you work for me!”
Zadeck said, red-faced.

The bouncer left after he saw nothing was going
on.

“Do you not have the money?”

“I have the money.” Zadeck was insulted.

“And you just want to…cut them out?”

“It’s going to be my last order from this
organization. So I figured I might as well—”

“Okay, that’s not going to work. You need to
pay them. At least some.”

“Why?”

“Because there are a dozen armed guys at the hotel
with probably a dozen more still on their ship. And they came to Belvaille, so
we can guess they know how to fight. And they know you owe them 1.3 million.”

“I’m not worried about a few men and their
guns.” He waved off the idea as if he were sweeping it away with a broom. This
was the problem with having a Wallow.

“They’re going to want their money. And they’re
going to come here looking for it. A battle like that is going to cause a lot
of damage, which will piss the dust out of Garm. And it’s going to bring
unnecessary attention when a transport hauler vanishes.”

“Garm has an interest in the completion of this
as well,” Zadeck said coolly.

“Yeah, but it’s not complete. Killing two dozen
men won’t make it complete. Because they’re just going to send more and next
time it’s going to be assassins.”

I’ve been in on double-crosses before. It’s
part of the life. But I don’t like them. You don’t want to be the guy known for
setting up betrayals. I made those sailors a promise and I wanted to deliver as
best I could.

“So then you’re telling me I have to pay the
full amount? What did I need you for, then?”

“Now you ask me! Pay them 80% of what you owe.”

“Did you already negotiate this?”

“No, but that’s what I think you can get away
with,” I stated plainly.

“Isn’t that just something you made up? Why not
70%?”

“Because that won’t work.”

“How do you know?”

“Because this is what I do for a living,” I
said with irritation. “Look, I’m happy to go give them whatever you want.
You’re calling the shots. But if you want the opinion of the guy who has put
together nearly every one of these deals for the last 170 years, 80% will make
everyone relatively satisfied.”

“Fine. Fine.” Zadeck went to his desk where he
kept his tele—odd place for it—and punched out some credits. He gave me a
token.

“I’ll also need about 5 grand for the hotel
bill.”

“Then it’s more than 80%,” Zadeck said.

“Yes, and my fee will make it even more. But
it’s well under 100%. No one died. No property was damaged. And your reputation
will still be solid on and off station.”

“And what is your fee?” Zadeck asked slyly.

“My fee is whatever you feel I deserve.”

I stared him square in the eyes.

I loved this part. You could see him stewing as
he looked down at his tele. Belvaille was a small town, especially at the top.
If Zadeck were to become known as cheap, that could have a pretty serious
impact, especially among his current elite clients.

This liquor shipment was obviously the biggest
deal he had done, and he was trying to make a power move into the upper echelons.
And I was a guy who lived in the upper echelons—or at least at the fringes of
it.

He beamed 35,000 to my tele. It was a very
generous price and I was absolutely ready to treat Zadeck with respect and let
bygones be bygones.

I thanked him and said I would take care of the
sailors. Once paid, Zadeck dismissed me like I was a household servant. That’s
fine, everyone has their quirks.

Outside the office, the bouncers walked with me
and I filled them in. They had gossiped like mad after I arrived, as news of
the shipment was already circulating. I chewed the fat a bit and took my leave.

I decided to wait until tomorrow to break the
news to the sailors. By that time they would have had a chance to celebrate
being off-ship for a while. The way I figured it, they’d party a bit then head
back home after they were sick of the place—Belvaille was not exactly a premier
tourist attraction.

Outside I was pleased to not see Wallow. I had
nearly exited the block when I heard him behind me.

“You! Hank! Don’t come back.”

Not sure how something that big could move so
fast—I certainly couldn’t—but out of nowhere he was suddenly looming overhead.

“I’ll go where I please,” I said, quite tired
of this whole block and its residents.

I opened my eyes and saw a fruity-looking man
with a gem-studded eye patch kneeling over me. His name was Gastolionep, and he
used to be station muscle until he got his eye shot out and now he was a butler
for some rich guy.

“Hank. Hank. You okay?” he asked with concern.

I looked around and saw I was no longer in
Zadeck’s block and that I was lying on my back.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Wallow,” he began with trepidation. “He kicked
you.”

I was icing my spinning head after being
punted, but I had a fat load of credits in my pocket, which can make the worst
bludgeoning not feel so bad. I took the train downtown and decided to hit the
casinos.

The Astrone was the best of the bunch. Had the
prettiest dealers and waitresses, high stakes, good booze, and usually no one
died.

“Hank, good to see you,” one of the doormen
exclaimed. I shook his hand and pressed him a few credits.

“Let the good times roll,” I said with a grin.

The casino interior was lavish. It had
fantastic items from across the Confederation: there was a visual strobe device
that assaulted your eyes by tricking your pupils opened and closed and left you
feeling disoriented; it had displays of sex clothes from a hundred planets, the
point being that most looked pretty hilarious; and the owner of this club liked
smells, so a scent symphony played across my nasal passages; and it had chairs
to accommodate every type of physiology.

Gamblers, their security in tow, did their best
to forget they were exiled on the furthest known Colmarian inhabitation. Inside
I talked up Zadeck to everyone. Said he was now a player and guys should keep a
look out for him. This was the kind of information that really interested
folks.

After about eight hours of this I was pretty
damn tired and drunk. I get drunk like anyone else, but I don’t get sloppy. I
hate it when people turn into some other person when they drink or do drugs. To
me that says they got something to hide, they don’t like themselves enough to
show off their real skin when they’re sober.

I’m exactly the same person wasted as sober. I
just sweat a lot more and spit when I talk.

My table was crowded because I had been buying
drinks and drugs all night, paying courtesans to sit next to me and look
pretty, and listening to guys tell their latest exploits of daring-do. I liked
listening to people’s stories and that’s good, because people love telling
them. There’s almost nothing folks like more than talking about themselves.

While there wasn’t a star or planet Belvaille
orbited, and thus no designated night and day, for convenience and maybe just
to avoid plain loneliness, most people stuck to the same clock and it was
indeed very late. The playful banter was gone and nothing was left but the dead
stares of hardcore gamblers and my own thoughts to keep me company.

I had wasted enough money so I passed a few
credits to the dealer and waved good-bye. People came and shook my hand, said
they’d tele me later, got some chaste kisses on the cheek. I was just tired and
feeling a bit down.

One of the casino owner’s private guards came
by as I was nearing the door.

“Hey, if you got a minute, the boss would like
a word.”

If Tamshius qua-Froyeled asks if you got a
minute, you usually give it. He was the biggest of the big bosses on the
station and one of my most regular employers. I can’t count the number of jobs
I had done for him over the decades.

“Sure,” I said, swinging over gamely to follow
the guard.

He took me down a dark corridor I had walked
many times before. It was extremely narrow and long. The purpose was that if
the casino was ever attacked, his assailants would have to line up single file
and be easy targets for fifty yards.

The guard knocked on the door and an elderly
voice from inside bid us enter.

“Hank,” Tamshius said happily as he strode
across the magnificent room to greet me. Tamshius’ office was decorated with
artwork and antique weapons from his home planet.

Lots of primitive firearms and pictures of
women with outrageous makeup. The man himself was old and thin and had tufts of
white hair on the sides of his head that were styled to stick out like squares.
He wore rich gold and blue robes and his fingernails were painted with bright,
reflective colors.

“Tamshius, it’s good to see you,” I said.
Colmarians were very forgiving with names as a necessity. I couldn’t pronounce
Tamshius’ last name anywhere near how it was supposed to be pronounced, my
vocal chords not being properly designed for the task. But I could at least get
close with his first name, so that’s how I addressed him.

As simple as my name was, I was often called
variations of “Han,” “Yank,” “An,” “Kank,” and things in between. I didn’t
care.

The guard left us, closing the door, and
Tamshius handed me a bottle.

“A small gift, since you’ve honored us with
your presence at my casino.”

The booze was very classy stuff. It was worth
maybe a hundred credits on the station.

“Thank you, Tamshius,” I said, bowing. “You are
gracious in your hospitality.” I didn’t understand Tamshius’ culture at all. It
seemed stuffy and overly polite at times, while incredibly offensive at others.
But everyone was a refugee on Belvaille, and if you could evoke a person’s home
traditions it could go a long way in putting you in their good graces.

“I wished to talk to you of a matter close to
my heart and disturbing to my mind,” Tamshius said. “If you have a moment could
you sit with me?”

“Of course,” I said, and sat in the chair he
indicated. He too sat down, not behind his imposing desk, as most bosses would,
but in a seat next to me. One of purposely lesser quality than the seats he
provided for his guests.

“There is a man by the name of
Oluviastian-Jos…,” he began, waiting for me.

“I know him,” I said after deciphering the
accented name.

“…who in the manner of gambling, has come to
owe me a sum of money I consider to be prohibitive.”

“May I enquire the total?”

“80,000,” he said flatly.

I flinched, as I already understood the
problem.

“Oluv-Jos will not be able to repay that
amount,” I said.

While I might hit the jackpot now and then and
get jobs like today that paid me many thousands of credits, most regulars had a
real job with a steady salary. Oluv-Jos probably wasn’t paid that in an entire
year.

“I was afraid of that,” Tamshius said.

“How was he given that much of a tab?” I asked.
“Your dealers should know who he is and what he can foot.”

“I have spoken to the parties and it seems to
have been a legitimate error in judgment. I have taken necessary actions. What
are your recommendations on this?”

This was why I liked Tamshius. He did his
thing, he trusted me to do mine. I came in here and felt like he treated me
like an expert, not a glorified trash man.

“Oluv-Jos works for Ddewn. Either Ddewn takes
over the debt or you try and collect from Oluv-Jos. Either case I see as
unlikely. Ddewn will not want to see his boy be under your thumb, but he will
be even less interested in personally owing you money.”

Tamshius scratched his chin thoughtfully, his
multicolored fingernails glittering.

“Will he be prepared to go to war to protect
this situation?”

I really had to think about this. Up until now
it was fine being tired and hazy, but now I couldn’t just make from-the-hip
pronouncements. I sat there mulling for a good few minutes.

Ddewn was another boss, a big one. He had a lot
of very rough guys in his employ and controlled turf other people wouldn’t
touch. He was not a pleasant man even as gang bosses went.

“I think he will fight,” I said. “If he can
save face, there may be ways out of it. At the moment nothing comes to mind.”

“Thank you for your most candid response. It is
times like these I truly value the breadth of your wisdom.” Tamshius bowed.

“I think you’re the only person on Belvaille
who accuses me of being smart,” I answered.

“You underestimate yourself. I also heard you
did some work today for the one known as Zadeck.”

“That’s right.”

“An important man?” It was a question laden
with subtlety. I wanted to be careful here. My motto of never taking sides
certainly applied to people I worked for. I could give the facts, but I didn’t
want to give information that Zadeck would consider unfaithful.

“He is growing in importance,” I answered
delicately.

“Do you think it prudent for me to eliminate
him as a concern? Especially if there may be a coming storm with Ddewn.”

I exhaled and thought about this.

“In addition to Wallow, I believe he has some
support from Garm,” I cautioned.

“Bah.” Tamshius waved his hand dismissively and
his pleasant brow furrowed. “People speak her name like children fearing
robots. She can be killed like any other.”

This was quite a surprising sentiment. Tamshius
was usually very controlled, but perhaps there had been some recent fallout
between him and Garm.

“With all due respect, I have lived through
four Adjuncts, a Lance Major, and for a few years, Common Rule. By far the best
leader for Belvaille has been Garm. And she’s easy on the eyes.”

“Yes, I know,” Tamshius said dejectedly. “Do
you know that Adjunct Overwatch Monhsendary tried to have me murdered?”

“Yes, I was there.”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “I am forgetting who
I am speaking with.”

Tamshius stood up, so I did as well.

“Again, I want to thank you for your help,”
Tamshius said, bowing.

“My pleasure.” I bowed back.

“If I may enquire, how much did you spend
tonight at my facility?”

I sighed deeply, mostly because I didn’t want
to remember it.

“10,000.”

“To the exact credit?” he asked curiously.

I checked my tele.

“To the exact credit, yes.”

This seemed to please Tamshius and he went to
his desk.

“For your time and beneficial advice,” he said,
and he beamed me 10,000.

“Thank you, sir,” I said, bowing again.

“Can I reserve your assistance if I should
require help with the Ddewn affair?” he asked, correctly attributing the
concern to the boss and not his underling despite the origins of the debt.

“I await your inquiry and will do the best I
can.”

“I can ask nothing more,” he answered.

Tamshius showed me out and I walked the long
hall with my free bottle of high-end booze and a spring in my step. I was back
to my original total despite an excellent night of much-needed excitement.

The guards were anxious for information on what
was going down, but I told them it wasn’t something I could speak about at the
moment, which they took as a dark omen.