The Best Rootin' Tootin' Shootin' Gunslinger in the Whole Damned Galaxy (34 page)

BOOK: The Best Rootin' Tootin' Shootin' Gunslinger in the Whole Damned Galaxy
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“I'll take care of it."

      
“Really?"

      
“That's a promise."

      
A look of gratitude spread across the little hunchback's homely face.

      
“Thank you, Thaddeus."

      
“Now try to relax, and maybe we won't have to worry about it,” said Flint.

      
Tojo lay back and closed his eyes again, and Flint remained motionless, wishing that there were a clock ticking somewhere so that he wouldn't feel so helplessly suspended in time and space.

      
Suddenly a groan escaped the hunchback's lips, and his face contorted in pain.

      
“What is it?” asked Flint, quickly leaning over the bed.

      
“I don't know,” mumbled Tojo.

      
“I'll get Fuzzy!"

      
“Please don't leave me, Thaddeus!” rasped Tojo. “I'm scared!"

      
Flint looked helplessly at the medic's closed door, then sat back down in his chair and held onto Tojo's clawlike hand.

      
“Thank you, Thaddeus,” wheezed the hunchback, his body starting to relax. “You've always been my friend."

      
Suddenly he went limp, and Flint raced to Fuzzy-Wuzzy's cubicle and pounded on the door.

      
“What is it?” asked the medic, emerging and hastening to Tojo's bed.

      
“I don't know. He seemed to be in pain, and then he collapsed.” Flint walked around the bed as the medic checked the little hunchback's pulse and respiration. “What happened to him?"

      
“He's merely unconscious,” said Fuzzy-Wuzzy. “Probably from the pain. It's just as well; his breathing is less labored this way.” He turned to Flint.

      
“He'll probably sleep for a few hours. Why don't you try to get a little rest, too? It's been a long day for everyone. I'll have you paged when he wakes up."

      
Flint looked at the little hunchback's twisted frame, stroked his sweating head and straightened the pillow under it, and then nodded.

      
“All right,” he sighed.

      
“Where will you be?” asked Fuzzy-Wuzzy, accompanying him to the door of the infirmary.

      
“I don't know,” said Flint. “The mess hall first. Then probably my room."

      
He looked at the yellow medic. “If I don't hear from you in a couple of hours I'll come back up here."

      
Fuzzy-Wuzzy nodded, and Flint wandered distractedly down the long matted corridor to the elevator. Then, because he felt restless, he continued walking to the small, spiral stairwell and climbed down the four levels to the mess hall, which was deserted except for Monk and Batman, who were sitting and eating quietly at the far end of the room.

      
Flint considered ordering coffee or a beer, decided he didn't want either, and sat down at his own table. He sighed, lit a cigarette, and stared at the ashtray.

      
After a few minutes he got up and poured himself some coffee, then returned and began sipping it thoughtfully. The artificial cigarette burned down to its artificial filter, and he lit another.

      
He was on his third cup of coffee and his eighth cigarette when Mr. Ahasuerus entered the mess hall and walked slowly over to Flint's table.

      
“Mr. Flint . . .” he began uneasily.

      
“Yeah?"

      
“I have just . . . I mean to say . . ."

      
“He's dead, isn't he?” said Flint bitterly.

      
“I am sorry."

      
Flint stared at the cigarette that was glowing in the ashtray.

      
“Had he any requests for the disposition of the body?” asked the blue man gently.

      
“Yeah,” said Flint. Suddenly he sat up straight. “Shit!” he muttered.

      
“What is it?"

      
“I
can't
bury him with his parents,” said Flint, looking up at his partner with tortured eyes. “I don't even know what his name was."

      
“It wasn't Tojo?” asked Mr. Ahasuerus.

      
“That's the name
I
gave him the first time I saw him."

      
“Perhaps it is just as well,” said the blue man soothingly. “As I told you some time back, Earth has been closed to members of the Community."

      
“Not this time,” said Flint.

      
“But—"

      
“I gave him my word. Promises aren't my strong point,” he added wryly, “but I intend to keep this one.” He lowered his head in thought for a moment.

      
“I'll bury him next to my mother,” he said at last.

      
“I thought you did not get along well with your mother."

      
“He wanted a family,” said Flint softly. “I've got one to spare."

      
“I do not know if Kargennian will approve,” said Mr. Ahasuerus.

      
“That implies he's got a choice. He hasn't."

      
“But what shall I tell him?"

      
“Tell him that Thaddeus Flint is taking his friend home,” said Flint, rising from the table and heading off toward the infirmary to say a private farewell to the hunchback. As he rode the elevator up to the fourth level he searched his memory for childhood prayers, and discovered to his surprise that he knew one less than Diggs.

 

 

Chapter 22

 

      
Four days had passed, and Flint found himself sitting in the blue man's office, staring at his partner's latest art display and finding that it made no more sense to him than any of the others. He was drinking a lukewarm beer, while Mr. Ahasuerus, obviously agitated, had forsaken coffee cups and was drinking huge quantities directly from a thermos bottle.

      
“But
why
?” he persisted. “Surely we can simply ship the body there on one of our cargo ships."

      
“And let one of the Corporation's six-legged four-eyed polka-dot employees cart it off to a cemetery in Trenton, New Jersey?” replied Flint with a tired smile. “Don't you think he might appear just a little bit conspicuous?” The smile vanished. “Besides, the only way I'm going to know that Tojo actually winds up on Earth is to go with him. I trust the Corporation just about as far as I can spit with my mouth closed."

      
“Kargennian will never permit it."

      
“You leave Kargennian to me,” replied Flint.

      
The blue man drummed his fingers nervously on his desk. “I just cannot help feeling that you have not thought this through. Believe me, I
know
Kargennian. He has been looking for an opportunity to get rid of you for years. If you leave the show against his wishes, he will never allow you to come back."

      
“What makes you think I'm coming back?” said Flint.

      
“I
knew
it!” muttered the blue man. The drumming of his fingers became faster and louder until he finally balled them into a fist and slammed his hand onto the desk.

      
“Take it easy,” said Flint. “I've never seen a blue skeleton have a stroke before, and I've got a feeling I wouldn't know what to do."

      
Mr. Ahasuerus took a long swallow from his thermos bottle, then looked intently at Flint.
 
“Are you so unhappy here?” he asked at last.

      
“Happiness isn't in the cards for everyone,” replied Flint. “Let's just say that I'm tired. I came out here with a dozen misfits and no money, and in five years I built the biggest show in the galaxy. That ought to be enough."

      
“But why leave, now that the groundwork is done?"

      
“Because I'm just as broke as when I started,” said Flint. “Because Tojo and the Dancer are dead, and Gloria and Fast Johnny Carp have become creatures that I used to have nightmares about. Because Monk is out-and-out crazy, and Stogie is dying. Aren't those enough reasons?"

      
“And what about the others?” persisted the blue man. “If we let you return, what about them?"

      
“They don't want to go back,” said Flint. “Monk will never go anywhere without Batman. The only thing Diggs lives for is fleecing marks, and he's got more of 'em up here than he ever had on Earth. Stogie, for all his talk about going home to die, is never going to leave the one place that will let him work. Barbara's got three or four prison raps hanging over her head. The others have other reasons."

      
“Don't you think you owe it to them to discuss your decision with them?"

      
“I already have. Besides, the only person I really owe anything to is you. That's why I'm here now—and that's why you're going to keep quiet when the hotshot shows up."

      
The intercom beeped, and a translated voice told Mr. Ahasuerus that Kargennian had arrived.

      
“Send him up,” said the blue man.

      
The two partners waited in silence until the rotund red alien entered the room.

      
“Good day, Mr. Ahasuerus,” said Kargennian. He turned to Flint. “What is this I hear about your taking a leave of absence, Mr. Flint?"

      
“I'm taking Tojo back to Earth,” said Flint. “Now sit down and tell me how you think you're going to stop me."

      
Kargennian seemed taken aback for just a moment, then quickly recovered his composure and sat down on a small metal chair. “And just how do you think you're going to get him there, Mr. Flint?"

      
Flint shrugged. “We've got a shuttlecraft and two small ships. Take your choice."

      
The little alien shook his head. “Those are company property, Mr. Flint. I'm afraid I can't let you use them."

      
“We both know you're going to let me take one of them,” said Flint with a smile, “so why not cut through all the bullshit and name your price on the front end—remembering, of course, that I'm no longer a wealthy man."

      
“It really is out of the question. Earth is off-limits to Community members."

      
“I'm not a Community member,” said Flint.

      
“Nevertheless."

      
“Kargennian, I'm going whether you want me to or not. Now, as I see it, you've got four alternatives. You can be a nice guy about it and wish me Godspeed, you can be your usual self and squeeze every last cent you can out of the situation, or you can be an asshole and send a couple of regiments of aliens out hunting for me on a world that's not supposed to know you even exist."

      
“That's only three,” said Kargennian. “What is the fourth?"

      
“You can make me mad, in which case I'll have to dig two graves when I get there."

      
“Are you threatening me, Mr. Flint?” asked Kargennian with a smile.

      
“Absolutely,” said Flint so coldly that all trace of amusement vanished from the rotund alien's face.

      
“How do I know you won't immediately go to the authorities and tell them about us?” demanded Kargennian.

      
“Because I don't plan to spend the rest of my life locked away in a padded cell."

      
Kargennian stared at Flint for a long moment. “If I agree to let you go to Earth, you know that we will never take you back?"

      
“I know."

      
“I'll be very blunt with you, Mr. Flint,” said Kargennian. “It has been my conviction for quite some time now that, while your entrepreneurial skills were probably necessary at the inception of this project, you really should have been replaced by someone with more managerial experience and a greater sense of Corporate teamwork two or three years ago."

      
“Someone like you, perhaps?” asked Flint dryly.

      
“As a matter of fact, yes."

      
Flint grinned. “I didn't know your circus was doing that badly."

      
“That is neither here nor there,” said the little alien, obviously flustered. “The fact remains that while I personally have no objection to finally seeing the last of you, it is Corporate policy that no one may set foot on Earth."

      
“Kargennian,” said Flint, “I'm in a hurry. Get to the point and let's get this over with."

      
“The point is that even if I were to convince the Corporation to make an exception in your case, you still have no means of transportation. It is, after all, a very expensive trip."

BOOK: The Best Rootin' Tootin' Shootin' Gunslinger in the Whole Damned Galaxy
11.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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