Soothsayer (14 page)

"Remarkable!” said the Mouse. “Just remarkable!” She summoned the banker, changed her chips into credits, and carried the cash over to the Forever Kid. “Here,” she said, handing him the money. “You can probably protect this better than I can."

The Kid placed the wad of bills inside his tunic.

"Why the long face?” asked the Mouse. “I won. I can afford you for another week or two."

"They just walked out,” said the Kid unhappily.

"What did you expect them to do?"

"I know what I
wanted
them to do,” he replied. “I've heard about the Golden Duke. I never thought he'd walk away from a fight.” He shook his head in abject disappointment.

"Look, I'm sorry you didn't get to die on this godforsaken planet,” said the Mouse with false sympathy. “But look at the bright side: You'll have two more weeks of opportunities to toss your life away. In the meantime, do you mind taking Penelope back to the hotel?"

"I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on
both
of you,” noted the Forever Kid.

"I'll be all right,” said the Mouse. “Besides, everyone just saw me give you the money. Don't get your hopes up too high, but if anyone's going to be in danger, it'll be
you
."

That seemed to raise the Kid's spirits, but Penelope suddenly looked unhappy. “Can't I stay with you?” she asked.

The Mouse shook her head. “I have to talk to the Iceman."

"I'm not afraid of him."

"I know,” said the Mouse with a smile. “But I have a feeling that he's afraid of
you
."

"Him?” said Penelope unbelievingly.

"Him,” repeated the Mouse. “Now go on over to the hotel. I'll join you in a few minutes."

The Kid got to his feet, took Penelope by the hand, and walked unhappily into the cool night air.

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The Mouse saw the Iceman staring at her as he leaned against the long bar. She beckoned him to join her with a motion of her head, and he carried his drink past half a dozen gaudily-dressed miners and traders, giving a wide birth to the huge alien Torqual who seemed to have no interest in drinking either whiskey or any of the exotic alien concoctions, but insisted on standing at the bar anyway. A striking redheaded woman stopped the Iceman to whisper something to him; he looked across the tavern, seemed to consider whatever it was he had heard, then nodded his head and, without another look at the woman, walked the rest of the way to the Mouse's table.

"You won a lot of money tonight,” he noted, seating himself and placing his drink in front of him. “Would you like me to keep it for you until you need it?"

"The Forever Kid won't let anyone take it away from him,” she replied. “And I'm going to need it tomorrow morning."

"Oh?"

She nodded. “I need to buy a ship."

"I thought the Forever Kid had a ship."

"He does, but I can't keep paying him 100,000 credits a week. Sooner or later I'm going to need my own—probably sooner."

"How big?"

"Big enough for three people,” said the Mouse. “No, make that four, in case the Kid's still with us when we join up with Merlin."

The Iceman arched an eyebrow at the mention of Merlin's name, but didn't ask any questions about him.

"Well?” said the Mouse.

"Well what?"

"Can I get a ship tomorrow?"

"Go over to the hangar. They usually have a few for sale, or, if not, they'll know where you can get one.” The Iceman paused. “You're definitely leaving tomorrow?"

She nodded. “Too many people know she's here already. The longer I wait, the more of them we'll have chasing us when we finally leave. Now that I have the money, there's no reason to stay."

"She's in no danger,” said the Iceman.

"Are you kidding?” she demanded. “Look around you. Not everyone is here just to drink your booze and play at your tables."

"
You're
in plenty of danger,” replied the Iceman, gazing casually at a pair of bounty hunters who were pretending that they had no interest in the Mouse. “But you still don't seem to know what you're traveling with."

"I'm traveling with the best damned gambling partner anyone ever dreamed of."

The Iceman shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “Do what you want. It's none of my business."

"I don't know why you persist in thinking of her as dangerous,” continued the Mouse. “I keep telling you: she's just a very tired, very frightened little girl."

"A little girl who has had 200 professionals looking for her for the better part of a year, and who's still free,” said the Iceman. “Doesn't that suggest something to you?"

The house banker caught the Iceman's eye, made some brief signal with his hand, and the Iceman shook his head. A moment later the banker was explaining to an annoyed customer that New Kenya shillings were not acceptable currency on Last Chance.

"She was an alien's prisoner when I found her,” answered the Mouse. “I told you that."

"Is she an alien's prisoner now?"

"No. She's just damned lucky that I found her."

"Do you make a practice of entering the alien sections when you're looting a hotel?” asked the Iceman.

"No."

"How many rooms were there in that hotel?” he continued.

"I don't know."

"A few hundred?"

"Probably."

"Haven't you wondered how you wound up in the one alien room where she happened to be?"

"I
told
you how it happened,” said the Mouse irritably.

"I know how it happened."

"You haven't changed at all, Carlos. You never trusted anyone or anything."

"Maybe that's why I'm still alive.” He paused. “But let me give you one piece of advice."

"What?"

"Don't ever get her mad at you."

"I'm the only friend she's got."

"She didn't do that badly when she had no friends at all,” he noted.

"What would you have me do?” demanded the Mouse. “Desert her? Return her to your friend 32?"

The Iceman stared at her for a long moment.

"If it was me,” he said at last, “I think I'd kill her while I had the chance."

She stared at him for a long moment.

"No,” she said distastefully, “you haven't changed."

She got up and walked out the door, then crossed the street and entered her hotel. She got on the airlift, ordered it to elevate her to her floor, then rode the corridor to her door. Just as she turned the corner leading to her room, she found herself face to face with the Golden Duke. He held a sonic weapon in his hand, and silently directed her into a darkened room three doors down from her own.

"Lights,” commanded a low voice, and suddenly the room was bathed in illumination.

"Good evening, ma'am,” said King Tout, as the Golden Duke stationed himself in front of the door. She looked around desperately, silently cursing her stupidity for not keeping Penelope with her, and saw September Morn smiling at her from her position by the room's only window.

"What do you want?” demanded the Mouse. “If it's money, I don't have it with me."

"Oh, we'll get around to talking money in a while, ma'am,” said King Tout. “Right now I think I'd like to talk about luck."

"Luck?” repeated the Mouse.

"Luck.” He stepped forward and pointed to a small scar above his temple. “Do you see this, ma'am?"

The Mouse nodded, but said nothing.

"Do you know what it is?"

"No."

"It's a surgical scar."

"Somebody you tried to whipsaw shot you in the head?"

He chuckled. “No, ma'am, I'm afraid not.” Suddenly his smile vanished. “It's where I had a silicon bubble implanted. A Steinmetz/Harding 90347 bubble."

"Should that mean something to me?"

"It's the most powerful mathematics bubble ever invented,” explained King Tout. “I can do eleven million calculations before the card you see registers on your retina.” He paused. “Do you see my left eye, ma'am?"

"It looks just like the right one,” answered the Mouse.

"It's supposed to. But it's artificial, ma'am. It can see into the infrared spectrum, just as this artificial digit"—he raised the index finger of his left hand—"can produce a mark that can only be seen by this eye.” He paused again. “That's why I know you were lucky these last two nights, ma'am. Do you know
how
lucky?"

"Why don't you tell me?” said the Mouse.

"Well, in the beginning, I had a nine-to-one chance of winning, just because of the bubble. But when I started losing, I started cheating. By the end of the evening, you'd beaten odds of more than six thousand to one. That was impressive enough. But
tonight
,” he continued, “tonight I was dealing seconds
and
we were whipsawing you
and
I knew I was going to cut to a king, because I marked it when I opened the deck. The precise odds of your coming out ahead tonight, ma'am, were 53,024 to one.” He paused again. “That's so lucky it's almost unbelievable ... so you'll have to forgive me if I don't believe it."

The Mouse made no reply, and King Tout continued speaking.

"You know, ma'am, for almost two nights I couldn't figure out how you were doing it. I know you couldn't read the cards, because you don't have an eye that can see into the infrared spectrum, and even if you did, you couldn't have broken my code. I knew you didn't have a collaborator, because there was no one else at the table, and I knew there was no way you could know what was in my hand, because on two occasions I didn't even look myself."

"Get to the point,” said the Mouse.

"The point?” repeated King Tout. “The point is that I couldn't figure out how you were cheating me, so I decided to make you cut the deck with me, and I decided to pick a king, and then I watched to see what happened next."

"What happened was that I drew an ace, in case it's slipped your memory."

"Oh, I knew you'd draw the ace, ma'am,” said King Tout. “It never crossed my mind that you might not. No, I was looking to see what happened
before
you drew it."

"Nothing happened."

"Not quite nothing,” he corrected her. “The little girl happened.” He paused. “At first I thought she must be a telepath, but then I got to thinking, and I realized that a telepath couldn't know where the ace was, or read my hand when I myself hadn't looked at it and didn't know what was in it. And then I remembered hearing stories about a little girl that everyone seems to want.” He stared at the Mouse. “She's the Bailey girl, isn't she?"

"Don't be ridiculous,” said the Mouse. “She's my daughter."

"Duke?” said King Tout, and four thin blades slid out of the fingers of the Golden Duke's prosthetic right hand.

"Now, ma'am, I'm going to ask you one more time, and if you lie to me, my friend is going to gut you like a fish. Do you understand?"

"You go to hell,” said the Mouse.

"I'm sure that's where we're all going, ma'am,” said King Tout. “Now, is she the Bailey girl or not?"

"
Don't!
” yelled a small voice on the other side of the door.

King Tout and the Golden Duke froze for a moment. Then the gambler motioned the Golden Duke to pull the Mouse into a corner, took a small laser pistol out of his pocket, and ordered the door to open.

"Don't hurt her!” said Penelope. “She's my best friend."

"Do come in, young lady,” said King Tout, stepping aside and allowing the girl to run to the Mouse's side.

"You shouldn't have done that,” said the Mouse. “He was bluffing."

Penelope shook her head. “In every future I could see, you didn't tell him and the Golden Duke killed you."

"So that's how it works!” said King Tout with a smile. “Just as easy as that? You see a million futures and choose the one you like best?"

"It's not that easy,” answered Penelope.

"If it worked like that, you'd never have surprised me here,” said the Mouse.

"Ah, but she was in her room, far away from you, ma'am, or I've no doubt you'd be back at the tavern, begging the Iceman for help."

"He's watching you right this minute,” said the Mouse.

"Oh, I very much doubt it,” said King Tout. “My friend September managed to find all of his holo feedlines—it's one of her talents: she's attracted to power, any kind of power ... electrical, conductive, nuclear—and my friend the Duke cut the lines."

"Then he'll know that something's going on here that you don't want him to see."

"Just how clumsy do you think I am, ma'am?” asked King Tout. “Right now his security people are watching holos of an empty room, which my friend September rigged before the Duke went to work."

"He'll find out."

"Oh, I'm sure he will,” agreed King Tout, “but not before we're all long gone."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you,” said a youthful voice from the still-open doorway, and they all turned to see the Forever Kid standing there, his fingertips poised lightly on the holster of his sonic pistol.

"I know who you are,” said King Tout.

"I know who you are, too,” said the Forever Kid.

"This doesn't concern you. Just be on your way and no one will get hurt."

"Just follow your two friends out into the hall, or a lot of people are going to get hurt,” responded the Kid, his eyes alive with excitement for the first time since the Mouse had known him.

"We're not looking for a fight,” said King Tout.

"Sometimes you can't always have what you want,” replied the Kid.

"Let me take him,” said the Golden Duke, his face absolutely expressionless as he stared at his antagonist.

"You can try,” said the Kid, his hand tensing.

"
No!
” screamed Penelope suddenly.

All the participants froze for an instant.

"What is it?” asked the Mouse.

"I don't want you to die!” sobbed Penelope.

"I'm not going to die."

"If the Forever Kid draws his gun, no matter what happens, you'll die and I can't change it!” wept the girl.

"Well?” said King Tout, still looking at the Kid.

"Kid, you'd better leave,” said the Mouse at last.

"But I can take these three,” he protested.

"Nobody said you couldn't,” answered the Mouse, trying to steady her voice. “But even if you do, I'm going to catch a laser beam or a sonic blast.” She stared at him. “Please, Kid?"