Demon Princes 01-05 The Star Ki, page 70
Swinging close their hoods to maximize the effect of the cold air,[36] they walked to the huts. After a glance within, they stood pointing here and there and discussing their findings. Gersen wondered what could interest them. They clearly had no expectation of finding Nihel Cahouse. What then? The Kotzash shares?
At the third hut the two men became intent. One pointed with an air of satisfaction. He entered, and emerged with a metal box obviously of great weight. He set it down, threw back the lid, touched the contents, gave his head a shake which could indicate almost anything. The other man closed the lid, carried the box to the skimmer. His comrade looked toward the planked shed. He gave a peremptory signal; the two crossed the sunlit area to the shed. One flung open the door, looked within, and jumped back with a startled exclamation. Gersen, at the rear, put his eye to a crack. By the light entering through the doorway he glimpsed the interior.
The second man approached. “What’s here?”
The man first on the scene waved his hand. “As you see.”
“Asi achih!”[37]
“The place stinks. It swarms with the devils.”
“They create their own stink. Ah, how putrid! Well, there are no papers here.”
“Not so fast. The shrig[38] wants twelve hundred vouchers, six hundred from here. We had best be diligent.”
“Give him the hundred you have already gained and the news that no more are to be found,”
“It may come to that. Bah, Cahouse would never keep the paper out here, if he troubled to keep it at all.”
“Ha, ha! Cahouse the mad reveler! He probably threw it high into the sansuun[39] with a curse. He was noted for his noble curses, so I’m told.”
“He’ll utter his great curses never again.”
“Let’s be away from this squalid place. We’ve got the sand to share; there’s profit to the day after all!”
“The shrig wants his vouchers and he speaks with a heavy voice. I am Bel Ruk, but I am not without fear.”
“Even fear cannot force the appearance of nonexistent vouchers.
“True .... Let’s look once more in the huts.” The two turned away and walked toward the shade. Behind them a voice spoke: “Gentlemen, stop in your tracks. Do not look around; death is close at your backs.” The two men jerked quivering to a halt. “Slowly raise your hands .... Higher. Walk forward, toward the base of the parasol. Do not look around.”
Ten minutes later Gersen had arranged matters to his satisfaction. The two men had declared their names to be Bel Ruk and Cleander. They stood with faces to the trusswork, hoods pulled over their eyes and bound tight by bands of cloth. Similar bands of cloth, but from their own garments, secured their arms to the trusswork. When, to Gersen’s critical eye, both men were helpless, he made an inspection of their persons, removing their hand guns, and Bel Ruk’s dagger. At their skimmer he investigated the box they had taken from the hut; it contained black sand to the weight of perhaps fifty pounds. On the seat of the skimmer rested Bel Ruk’s pouch. Within Gersen discovered Kotzash certificates to the aggregate of 110 shares, which he took into his own possession.
He returned to his two captives, both of whom had been surreptitiously twisting at their bonds. “I hope that you are taking a good-natured view of this situation,” said Gersen. “In a sense this is your lucky day. I am taking some Kotzash shares which I found in a pouch yonder. In exchange I have left ten svu. Since the shares are totally worthless, you actually have reason to rejoice. I am also taking Cahouse’s black sand.”
Neither Oleander nor Bel Ruk had comment to make.
“I prefer that you do not struggle against your bonds,” said Gersen. “If you broke loose I might be forced to kill you.”
Oleander’s shoulders sagged; Bel Ruk stood rigid and unforgiving. Gersen watched them a moment, then returned across bright sand to the tool shed. Bel Ruk and Cleander had left the door ajar; sunlight shone on a rumpled heap of gristle and dry bones among shreds of white cloth. Nihel Oahouse apparently had died while attempting to repair his pump, perhaps by electric shock. Scorpions by the dozens ranged in a circle. They had cut away Cahouse’s garments to feast upon his corpse.
As Bel Ruk and Oleander had remarked, the stench within the shed transcended all ordinary degrees of fetor.
Gersen went to the hopper, found a shovel, returned to the shed, and half dragged, half scraped the remains of Nihel Cahouse out upon the sand. The scorpions, tinkling in rage, made sorties with emerald eyes glaring. Gersen killed them with the flat of the shovel.
Eventually both corpse and scorpions had been removed. Gersen strolled back under the shade, and examined his captives. Bel Ruk asked in a flat voice: “How long do you intend to keep us here?”
“Not long now. Be patient.”
Gersen returned to the shed. The stench had eased somewhat, and the scorpions were gone. Gersen gingerly entered. First he threw the master switch on the power panel, then turned to look at what he had seen through the crack.
Nihel Cahouse had used his Kotzash shares to paper the walls of the tool shed. The adhesive had deteriorated in the heat to a granular crumble; the certificates peeled away without difficulty.
Gersen took the salvaged documents back under the shade and counted them: 600 shares. With the 110 shares taken from Bel Ruk, his holdings now totaled an even 2,000.
Gersen returned to his prisoners. Bel Ruk, chafing his bonds against the metal, had almost won free. Without comment Gersen made the bonds once more secure.
“Gentlemen,” said Gersen, “I am about to depart. Bel Ruk has demonstrated that the effort of an hour or so will break you loose.”
Bel Ruk blurted a question: “Why do you take my Kotzash shares? They are worthless.”
“In that case, why do you carry them?”
Bel Ruk said in a rough voice: “At Serjeuz a crazy iskish pays money for trash,”
“Kotzash shares are suddenly in demand,” said Gersen. “Perhaps that earless rogue Lens Larque is about to bring back the money he stole.”[40]
Bel Ruk and Cleander maintained an uneasy silence.
Gersen watched them a moment; then, carrying the chest of black sand to his skimmer, he departed Jamile Wallow.
At Serjeuz, with Cora half below the horizon, Gersen dropped the skimmer down upon the sand beside his Fantamic Flitterwing. He transferred the coffer of black sand and his Kotzash shares aboard, then slid the skimmer through the water veil and back to the rental agency.
Crossing the plaza to the Traveler’s Inn, Gersen waited until Tippin’s attention was diverted, then slipped past and up to his room. He bathed, changed into fresh garments, and returned to the lobby. He allowed himself to be noticed by Tippin, who signaled him to the desk. “Good evening,” said Gersen.
“Yes, no doubt. Where have you been all day?”
Gersen fixed Tippin with a long level stare; Tippin’s gaze shifted. Gersen asked: “Why are you interested?”
“Inquiries have been made,” said Tippin peevishly.
“By whom?”
“By Bel Ruk, if you must know, and not ten minutes ago. He thinks that you robbed him out in the desert.”
Gersen asked in a flat voice. “How could I rob Bel Ruk if I was in my room all day?”
“I don’t know. Were you in your room?”
“Do you know differently?”
“I don’t know one way or another.”
“This is the first time you’ve seen me today?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And I just came down from my room?”
“That is true.”
“Then tell Bel Ruk that to your knowledge I never left my room all day.”
“But are these the facts?” cried Tippin fretfully.
“To the best of your knowledge, they are indeed.” Gersen turned away and went out into the garden. He settled himself at a shadowed table, and dined without haste—
From the lobby came Daswell Tippin. He searched the garden, saw Gersen, and approached at an agitated trot. Flinging himself into a chair he said in a tragic voice: “Bel Ruk has threatened my very existence. He claims that I conspired with you; he calls me ‘robber.’ He says that he will take me out to Sangwy Shade.[41] Do you know what that means?”
“Nothing good, apparently.”
“It means those cursed Darsh whips, and don’t sneer; such affairs occur, to my certain knowledge!”
“When did Bel Ruk make his threat?”
“Not five minutes ago! I spoke with him by telephone; I told him that so far as I knew you had not been gone from Serjeuz. He became furiously angry.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. Here at Serjeuz, so I suppose.”
“Look here a moment.” Gersen produced the list furnished by Jehan Addels. “When you took up those shares for me, who did you buy from? Mark off their names.”
Tippin glanced along the list without any great interest. He marked with a stylus “This one. This one. This one.” With a gesture of revulsion he threw down the stylus “This is madness. If Bel Ruk sees me, he’ll take off my skin.”
“Today he had a hundred shares on his person, where did he get them?”
Tippin stared at him aghast “So you did indeed rob him?”
“I took up property to which he had no right. After all, Lens Larque looted the Kotzash warehouse.”
“But that is not Darsh logic,” whispered Tippin “At Sangwy Shade we shall dance together.” He turned sideways and searched the plaza “I’ll have to leave Serjeuz; I can live here no longer.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Home. To Svengay. I had a bit of trouble long ago, but surely it’s forgotten now.”
“Then there is no problem Take the next ship out”
Tippin held out his hands “What shall I use for money? I’ve been keeping a woman, she’s bled me dry.”
Gersen scribbled a note on a piece of paper, brought out a hundred SVL, and handed both to Tippin. “Take this letter to Jehan Addels at New Wexford, on Aloysius. He’ll pay you a thousand SVU, and find a job for you at New Wexford, if you so choose I advise you not to tell the woman you are going, although it’s none of my affair If she bled you dry here she’ll do it again elsewhere.”
With numb fingers Tippin took the money and the note “Thank you . Your advice is sound. Yes, very sound. I’ll leave tomorrow, there’s an outbound packet”
“Don’t tell anyone you’re going,” said Gersen “Just go.”
“Yes, exactly Won’t there be a great surprise when they find me gone?”
“Back to the Kotzash shares; where did Bel Ruk get his hundred shares?”
“Well—twenty he got from me. He picked up the others along Melby Sift.”
“Mark them off this list.”
Tippin studied the schedule and made a number of marks “I can’t be sure of these. What’s left is out along the Deep Wale, and a few along Scumby Barren You won’t find anyone at home now They’ll all be up to Dinkelstown for the Grand Hadauls. And that’s where Bel Ruk will be, if he wants more Kotzash.”
“What does Panshaw want with Kotzash?”
“When you say ‘Panshaw,’ you are saying ‘Lens Larque’.”
“Then why does Lens Larque want Kotzash?” Tippin searched the plaza. “I have no idea Panshaw thinks Lens Larque is crazy. He had trouble with the Methlen and now he wants his own back Of all men alive he is most to be feared. Imagine an insect in human form . Look now. Here comes Bel Ruk.”
“Sit quiet. He won’t harm you. He’s only interested in me.”
“He’ll take me away.”
“Refuse to go Say nothing, obey none of his orders.” Tippin made an asthmatic whimpering noise Gersen looked at him in disgust. “Control yourself.”
Bel Ruk entered the garden and marched at a stately pace to Gersen’s table With exaggerated delicacy he drew back a chair and seated himself “I intrude on no private conversation?”
“None whatever,” said Tippin in a quavering voice “I must introduce you Kirth Gersen, this is Bel Ruk, an important man of Dar Sai.” With a wild attempt at facetiousness he added “You have much in common, you both are interested in finance.”
“Oh we have much more in common than that,” said Bel Ruk. He shrugged back his hood to reveal his bony bronze face, massive cheek-bones, and cropped ears Noting Gersen’s gaze he said, “Yes, it’s true I am rachepol My clan dealt harshly with me Still, I took vengeance and I cannot complain.” He signaled the waiter “Bring me a quart of beer, and these gentlemen to their taste.”
“Nothing for me,” said Gersen Tippin said cautiously “I’ll have a tot of Tivol.” Bel Ruk examined Gersen with a deliberation almost insulting “Kirth Gersen, eh? And where is your home-world?”
“Alphanor, along the Concourse.”
“And you are taking up Kotzash shares?”
“When I can get them cheaply Are you selling?”
“I have none to sell, after suffering robbery and shame at your hands today.”
“Surely you are mistaken,” said Gersen “‘Tippin has hinted something to this effect, I’m not sure whether or not I have convinced him.”
“If he is convinced, he is more of a fool than I cake him for Let us discuss our business one item at a time.” He held out his hand “First, return my shares.”
Gersen smilingly shook his head “Impossible.”
Bel Ruk withdrew his arm and turned to Tippin “You have strained our bonds of friendship.”
“Not at all,” Tippin protested “By no means. Never.”
“We shall discuss the matter again.” Bel Ruk lifted his tankard of beer and swallowed half at a gulp. The remainder of the beer he threw casually at Gersen’s face From vast experience, Gersen had recognized the pattern of events. Bending to the side, he avoided most of the beer. In the same motion he lifted the table, thrust it at Bel Ruk’s chest and toppled him backwards. Bel Ruk fell sprawling across the garden.
The waiter gingerly approached. “Gentlemen, what is the matter?
“Bel Ruk has had a bit too much to drink,” said Gersen “Take him away before he injures himself.”
The waiter helped Bel Ruk to his feet, then picked up the table and set it into its place.
Gersen stonily watched Bel Ruk, who stood considering his options Finding no obviously profitable course, Bel Ruk turned and departed the garden.
Tippin said in a sick voice “He’s going for his gun.”
“No. He’s got other concerns.”
“There’s no way back for me now,” gloomed Tippin. “It’s either Sangwy Shade or go and never return.”
Gersen gave Tippin a certificate for fifty SVU “Settle my account here, through tomorrow I may also be leaving.”
Tippin asked in dull confusion “Where are you going?”
“I’m not quite sure.” Gersen jumped to his feet. “Excuse me, now I’m in a hurry.”
He ran up to his room, picked up items of equipment Returning below, he left the hotel and ran off across the plaza and under Skansel Shade. In Skansel Plaza he halted to look up at Dindar House Lights showed from the windows of Panshaw’s office, there was no time to be wasted. He climbed up over the entrance, scaled the sloping roof and sidled to the window giving on Litto’s office. He brought out his detector, touched the controls to the conductive trail he had sprayed only two nights before Bel Ruk’s guttural voice sounded immediately in the earphone “—not all so easy. They’re scattered here and there around the Wale.”
“They’ll be at the Dinkelstown for the hadaul, most of them.”
“But that’s not necessarily to the good,” growled Bel Ruk “These sitters aren’t fools they’ll sniff a plot and go for full recovery.”
“I hat may well be Here’s an idea Cry out a hadaul and post a stake. The challenge can be a hundred Kotzash shares Let the roblers collect the shares for us.”
Bel Ruk grunted “And then when there’s a winner?”
Panshaw’s voice dripped sarcasm “Must I plan out every detail?”
“You were glib enough in regard to Gersen, or whatever his name.”
“That is a different tale Gersen will not be at the hadaul.”
Bel Ruk vented a gusty snort “So you say. And if he is?”
“‘I hat again is at your discretion. The Bird would like a word with Gersen.”
“Tell the Bird to come out to the hadaul Let him show his famous techniques.”
“Maybe he’ll come over without my instructions, to comment upon your work.”
Bel Ruk’s voice was suddenly dubious “Do you really think so?”
“No I do not. He is obsessed with his wonderful scheme.”
Bel Ruk’s voice came somewhat easier “So long as he works his tricks he diverts his energies.”
“They’ll not be diverted if he loses Kotzash.”
“I can only do my best Gersen is not inexperienced Still, he neglected to kill me when he had the chance.”
Panshaw chuckled “He regards you as no great threat.”
Bel Ruk said nothing.
“Well then,” said Panshaw, “do your best From here I cannot guide your feet while you walk You are reputedly skillful in the robles.[42] Fight in your own hadaul and come away with the postpot.[43]
“The idea already had occurred to me.”
“One way or another, collect at least seven hundred shares. Then, whether or not Gersen took Cahouse’s shares, we’ll be secure. Now I will go back to my couch; Twanish time is a taskmaster. The cursed Methlen start the day at sunrise, just when good thieves like you and me are ending it. Oh why must I pay the price for the Bird’s social yearnings? If it were not so funny I could cry for grief.”
“All this is beyond my understanding,” grumbled Bel Ruk. “It’s nothing to do with me.”
“Just as well! You’d be less effective than ever.”
“Someday, Panshaw, in one hand I will squeeze your neck into a thin stalk.”
“Someday, Bel Ruk, I will poison your vile beer. Unless, of course, we lost Kotzash and the Bird gives us both to Panak.”
