Flight of the Maita Supercollection 3: Solving Galactic Problems Collector's Edition (152 page)

"Maita's
pompous and you sound like Z!" T6 said. "Why not say we should stay
to a plan for now and do other things at other times?"

"THING sounds
like me?" Z asked. "Don't get sidetracked. Keep notes. That should
cover it."

They refrained
from playing too much then. They all wanted to finish this project
and to get back home – or Z and Thing did.

Kit and Tab
landed at the same field they used before while Maita landed at the
extension field by the empire offices. This world was an empire
protectorate so there weren't many machines except the ones the
legitimate traders used. Still, it made a stir when the emperor's
personal ship landed! That huge platinum plated ship would always
be recognized and would always cause comment. There was certainly
no disguising it!

Thing checked
over its floater and climbed aboard, saying it had one or two
things it wanted to check out while Z went alone to the traders
guild offices. Tab went to the hotel and Kit went to the bar where
he'd made something of a friend of the bartender on his earlier
trip.

Maita, TRD-60,
and T6 each started its own kind of search.

*

Kit went to the
bar and ordered a grain alcohol and citric acid mixed with
flavorers. There were few people in the place at the moment. Just
the neverending crooked card game. The only one he recognized there
was the loudmouthed Bentan.

There was a
different bartender so he sat at the table to play a few hands of
Chances, a game not unlike what Z called "Hearts with a bit of
Crazy Eights thrown in for interest!" It would pass the time.

"You get the
job?" the Bentan asked.

"Nah," Kit
replied. "I make more at the games. I'm too lazy to take on most of
the crap they have available. I guess they have the kind of base
crew they want before they get here. I ain't no common laborer for
nobody.

"I'm called
Ford and I know you're Namp."

"I'm called
Zolk," the Eacheron introduced. "Eacheron, reptilian, if you're
prejudiced. Some of you Jornians are. The Dravinian is called
Plutus."

"I'm not
prejudiced," Kit said. "I don't have time for that crap.

"Can I get
in?"

"Ten credits to
get in and you meet raises or drop out," Namp agreed.

Kit was dealt
into the next hand and got an "almost" hand. It was designed to
sucker him into raising and he would lose it because he would get
no fillers in comets.

The game was
straight when he played before. He would let Namp know he knew what
was going on from the start. He dropped the hand face down and
waited until it came around.

"Dead hand. I'm
out," he said and sat back to sip the cool drink while the others
played an impossible set.

The trouble
with dealing that type of hand was that if the mark refused to play
it set up a situation where no one else could win or lose so they
would have to all drop out and redeal if they knew what was going
on. Anyone who stayed in had no idea of what was happening.

Plutus met and
stayed already so Zolk studied his hand and said, "Out!"

Namp grinned,
shook his head and dropped his hand. He reached for the cards to
reshuffle, but Plutus said, "You forfeit?"

Now Kit grinned
back at Namp who looked startled then muttered it was a dead-hand
game. He would redeal.

"Only if first
player dead-hands," Plutus argued. "I met and stayed! If you all
drop I win by forfeit!"

Kit pushed the
forty credits to him and said, "Your deal. You won."

Namp and Zolk
had probably been "skinning" Plutus all morning so it was good to
see him take a bit of the money for a change. Kit looked Namp
straight in the eyes while he said, "Plutus calls the game. What
are we playing?"

Plutus shuffled
and decided, "Straight Ups! Primary Stars wild!"

This was a game
almost identical to what Z had taught him as five card draw poker
except there was only one Primary Star so it was like playing with
one joker. With Plutus dealing only the marked deck would be an
advantage.

"New deck!" Kit
called. "Bad luck on transfers! Bartender! A deck!"

Namp was
seething while Zolk was amused. He saw Kit was in a position where
he could show them up easily so he would play the straight game. In
a place like this if Namp made any wrong move Kit could see that no
one would allow him in another game so he would have to take it and
stew awhile.

"So you
definitely are NOT prejudiced!" Zolk said. "I see you know cards.
This should be an interesting game! I'll say the bunch of Jornians
who come in here every thirty days or so would have set out to take
... play very differently. They would've made a stink about playing
so ... simple a game as we were starting with."

"If I win and
get the deal I'll show you a new game that was taught to me by a
friend," Kit replied. "It's a simple game, but it's a deadly game.
It's called Cutthroat. I would think any real gambler will like it
– so long as he wins! It's a fast, and as I said, deadly game!"

"You'll have to
explain it before we'll agree to play," Namp said through his
teeth. "I don't play games with bad odds!"

"You don't play
games with ANY odds!" Kit replied. "Go ahead and deal, Plutus! This
should be fun! Skill won't be much help with this and won't be any
help at all with Cutthroat!"

Namp bit his
lip, but shut up.

They played for
about two hours. Kit managed to use a few of his robotic talents to
make sure that Namp lost steadily until he finally dropped out and
stamped angrily off. Namp knew Kit was cheating, but couldn't
discover how while Kit saw how Namp was cheating when he first sat
at the table. There was no cheating among the other three players
and the game became fun after Namp left. Plutus won back what he
had lost and was slightly ahead, as was Zolk. Kit was almost where
he started. All the winnings were Namp's money.

The game broke
up when several more people came in to use the table so Kit went to
the bar to sit next to Namp.

"How did you do
it?" Namp asked. "It's okay. I'm over my mad."

"I've got a
mathematical talent," Kit replied. "Get your best computer and feed
it any numbers you like as you tell them to me and I'll finish
before the machine. I watch the cards as they're played and figure
the odds on each card drawn. It doesn't always work, but it gives
me a much better chance. If I see the order of the discards and the
dealer shuffles three times I watch where the cut is made, I can
figure within a couple of cards where some are.

"When you drew
that last hand I'd say you were holding the primary, second, Torrid
and Cut of Stars so you could win with any Star or with any high or
low. The odds were tremendously in your favor. I would've bet as
heavily if I held such a hand and didn't know what was coming
up.

"I watched the
order of the discards before, saw the second of Light and the
second of Mists were discarded and I held the highs going to fill –
so the deck held all four centers and two periods in the range of
where you were to draw as well as no Stars for at least six draws.
The cards on the deck were all losers. You drew the Center of
Mists. You cheat from a marked deck. With my mathematical mind I
will automatically make a matrix of the card backs so I can see the
small irregularities immediately. Your methods are a bit crude. I
don't know why someone hasn't killed you long ago."

"I'm careful
who I use them on," he explained, honestly. "What do you really
want here? It's not cards and it's not a spacer job. You're up to
something and it don't have nothin' to do with getting a job on
some tramp freight hauler."

"I followed
someone, you might say," Kit answered. "It's got something to do
with Jorn I think and I'm more than a little frightened by it. I
don't know what's going on. My race has taken some bad knocks
because of what a few have done and this has to be big. Very
big!

"I don't want
to be blamed for anything someone else did. I have to put up with a
hell of a lot of prejudice as it is. I don't want anymore heaped
on."

"Big?" Namp
asked. "How so?"

"Do you know
the emperor's on Grlaq?" Kit asked.

Namp spilled
his drink all over himself and stared wide-eyed at Kit. The
bartender, who was close, dropped a tray of glasses.

Well, surprise!
Surprise! So they both knew something – and there was one little
item that hadn't slipped by in the conversation, either. Kit
grinned and toasted Namp with his glass, drained it and went
out.

*

Tab checked
into the spacer hotel and glanced at the register, photographing
every slight detail for later perusal. He wished the place had a
computer for such things because he could read the entire records
that way.

He was checking
in as a Jornian so facilities would have to be set for his comfort
and the kitchen would have to be told a Jornian's food would have
to be prepared. Everything was kept in special codes. The symbol
for Jornian was 'J-6-M' on the book.

"What's the M
for?" he asked.

"Male," the
desk clerk answered. "Some races have really wild differences
between their male and female requirements. It also tells us what
to send if you request company for the night. If you do we have
Jornian females. Two of them. Thirty five credits extra.

"I know you
Jornians make a big deal out of not having whores among their
women, but they stay pretty busy in a place this far from
anything."

"I guess you
don't need more than two ever," Tab said as he signed the book.

"Sometimes,"
the clerk said. "Seven B. East wing."

He slid the
register under the desk and handed Tab a key.

Tab went to the
elevator and to his room. He checked it over carefully, then went
down to the restaurant on the first floor for noonmeal, though it
was early yet. He sat where he could see the desk and the people
who came in and out. It was a busy spot.

After the meal
he went to the traders guild building where Z passed him coming
out. They nodded at each other as strangers do when they
passed.

Tab went to the
desk where he found the clerk to be extremely nervous. He asked if
that wasn't the emperor's companion, Z, who he just saw on the
steps.

"Yes!" the
clerk answered. "The emperor's personal ship is out there! It
brought the Terran and the Mentan. Everyone thinks the emperor's
aboard, but he never is seen in public so we don't know.

"I don't know
what's going on. What the hell does the emperor want here?"

Tab groaned and
asked if the Terran was asking about Jornians.

"Jornians?!"
the clerk asked. "No, about ... some shipments. I'm not at liberty
to say. Why do you think he would ask about Jornians?"

"Because of
some stories I heard," Tab replied. "Some Jornian outlaws hijacked
an empire ship or something such and the emperor was supposed to
have blown his retros about not putting up with pirates in the
Maitan Empire. You know how these things get out of hand. I don't
want to go through a lot of crap everywhere I go because someone of
my same race who I never even heard of did something stupid in some
place I've never been! If the empire gets involved every Jornian
out here is going to end up getting blamed for it!"

"The emperor's
not like that at all!" the clerk protested. "He would never blame
anyone for something someone else did! Besides, you could take the
probe and you'd be cleared right off!"

"You got to be
joking!" Tab cried. "Out here? Take the probe? I didn't say I never
did nothing at all! I said I didn't have nothing to do with no
hijacking! Get with the ion stream!"

"Well, that's
your problem," the clerk replied with a smirk. "Can I help you with
something?"

"I want to know
if Jornians bought or sold any unregistered cargo," Tab said. "If I
can find the hijackers and turn them in maybe the rest of us will
be left alone. I guess ... but you said he didn't ask about
Jornians.

"Anything
you've heard? Believe me, I want this cleared up and the empire out
of here! We don't need them sticking their fingers in our
business!"

"You should
know the traders guild won't deal in any unregistered cargo!" the
clerk snapped haughtily. "Our reputation is completely beyond
reproach in all ways!"

"I didn't ask
if you dealt in it! I know you didn't!" Tab said in exasperation.
"Like me on the probe, I know damned well you KNOW about those
things whether you have anything to do with it or not!"

"The only
cargoes I know about concerning Jornians are the ones that are
regular runs," the clerk said. "Nothing has changed in years that
I've heard of. That's the truth.

"I didn't know
what the emperor wanted here, but you told me so I'll be straight
with you. All the Terran wanted was a list of legitimate cargo over
the years so I guess what he's looking for is what was delivered
somewhere that ISN'T guild business! The emperor has enough
facilities to traces everything back to its source.

"I wish him
luck! More than half of what goes on here isn't through the
guild!"

"See why I want
to avoid the probe?" Tab asked, grinning at the clerk. He saluted
and left, heading for the hotel to think. He had an idea as he
entered. The restaurant was full now and no one was in the lobby.
The foods were delivered in the restaurant by robots so he made one
of them become confused by sending two added sets of commands on
its wavelength. It knocked over a potted plant, then dumped its
trays on the floor where there was no tray stand. It ran into the
food and spun its wheels trying to back off, then slid into a table
and turned it over to add to the confusion and mess. No one was
hurt or even badly soiled by that, but all organic personnel ran to
stop the machine at once, including the desk clerk. Tab quickly
reached around the counter and took the book for the east wing, ran
through all the pages for the past several years and replaced it.
He then went to his room where he laid on the bed to bring each
page up for study. He wanted to know about J-6, M or F!