When every action led to disaster, those who did nothing were damned
equally with those who acted.
* * * * *
Someone touched Cudyk's arm as he left Chong Yin's. He turned and saw
that it was Ferguson.
"I've got something to say to you, Cudyk. I saw you were busy talking
to Father Exarkos in there, so I didn't bother you. Besides, it's
private. Come on down to my place."
The man was doing him an honor, Cudyk realized, in approaching him
personally instead of sending an underling. And now, as Ferguson stood
waiting for him to reply, Cudyk saw that there was something curiously
like appeal in his eyes.
"All right, if you wish," he said. "But I will have to go back to the
shop within an hour--Nick has not had his lunch."
"I won't keep you that long," Ferguson said.
They turned at the corner and walked down Washington, past Town Hall
to The Little Bear. Beyond this point, everything was Ferguson's: the
dance hall, the casino, the bawdy house, the two cafes and three bars,
and the two huge warehouses at the end of the avenue. But it was the
casino that Ferguson meant when he said "my place".
A white-aproned boy got up hurriedly and opened the heavy doors when
they approached. Ferguson strode past without looking at him, and Cudyk
followed across the long, empty room. Dust covers shrouded the roulette
table, the chuck-a-luck layout, faro, chemin-de-fer, dice and poker
tables. The bar was deserted, bottles and glasses neatly stacked.
Ferguson led the way up a short flight of stairs to the overhanging
balcony at the end of the room. He opened the door with a key--a rarity
in the Quarter, since cylinder locks were available only by scavenging
on Earth, and had to be imported, whereas a mechanism used by the
Niori as a mathematical toy could be readily adapted into an efficient
combination lock.
The low-ceilinged room was furnished with a blond-wood desk and swivel
chair, a long, pale green couch and two chairs upholstered in the same
fabric: all Earth imports, scavenged from stocks manufactured before
the Collapse. The carpet was a deeper green. There were three framed
pictures on the walls: a blue-period Picasso, a muted oyster-white and
grey Utrillo and a small Roualt clown.
Ferguson was watching him. "Just like my place in Chicago," he said.
"You never saw it before, did you?"
"No," Cudyk said. "I have never been in the Casino until now."
"Sit down," said Ferguson, pointing to one of the upholstered chairs.
He pulled out the swivel chair and leaned back in it. He nodded toward
the glass which formed the entire front wall of the room. "Sittin' up
here, I can see everything that goes on downstairs. I got a phone--"
he laid his hand on it--"that communicates with the cashier's booth in
every room. I can handle the whole place from here, and I don't have to
be bothered by the goofs if I don't want to. Also, that glass is bullet
proof. It's Niori stuff, ten times better than anything we had back
home. They tell me you couldn't get through it with a bazooka."
Cudyk said nothing.
"What I wanted to talk to you about--" said Ferguson, leaning forward
with his elbows on his knees. "You understand, Cudyk, this is
confidential. Strictly between us."
"I don't want any confidence that will be difficult to keep," said
Cudyk.
"What do you mean?"
"If it is something that touches the safety of the Quarter--"
Ferguson waved his hand impatiently. "No, it's nothing like that. I
just don't want it to get around too early. All right, use your own
judgment. Here it is.
"Rack's coming back in about three weeks with his transport, to pick up
anybody that wants to go to New Earth. I'm not going, and neither are
any of my boys. On the other hand, I'm not going to stay here either.
It isn't healthy any more.
"I don't know what Rack's got, but I've got a pretty good idea he's
got enough to raise a lot of hell. Now you can figure the angles for
yourself: maybe he won't bomb this planet because he thinks he can
still make some use of the Quarter--but that's a big maybe. Even if he
doesn't, it's a dead cinch there's going to be trouble. The Niori know
he comes here, even if they can't prove it, and when the war starts
they're going to be sore."
"Tell me something," said Cudyk after a moment. "If you knew all this
long ago--and you must have, since you have been so closely associated
with Rack--why did you help Rack, and so force yourself to leave
Palumbar?"
Ferguson grinned and shrugged. "I'm not complaining," he said. "Rack
never fooled me. I got mine, and he got his--it was a business
arrangement. When you figure everything in, I can clear out now and
I'm still ahead. See, you got to figure that nothing lasts forever.
If I hadn't played along with Rack, he would have taken his business
somewhere else. Maybe I could have stayed here a little longer, but
then again, maybe I would have stayed too long. This way, I got my
information in advance, and I got my profit from dealing with Rack.
"As a matter of fact, he thinks I and all my outfit are going to be on
that transport when it goes back to his base. He knows I wouldn't take
a chance on staying here when the shooting starts. What he doesn't know
is that I got someplace else to go, and a way to get there."
He sat back in his chair again. "I got a Niori-built freighter hidden
back in the hills. Had it for eight years now. It'll carry five hundred
people, and fuel and provisions for a year, on top of the cargo. And I
got a planet picked out where nobody will bother me--not Rack, and not
the Galactics."
* * * * *
He took a cigar box from the desk and offered it to Cudyk. Cudyk shook
his head, showing his pipe.
Ferguson took a cigar, twirled it in his lips slowly, and lit it.
"You know," he said, bending forward, "there's plenty of planets in
the galaxy that aren't inhabited. Some have never even been explored.
They're off the shipping routes, no intelligent race on them, nothing
special in the way of organic products, so nobody wants them. Rack's
got one--I've got another."
He gestured with the cigar. "But I'm not using mine to build up any war
base. What for?" His long face contorted with violent disgust. "That
Rack is crazy. You know it and I know it. If it wasn't for him, I could
have stayed here, who knows how long? Or I could have moved to one of
the other colonies if I saw a good chance. I like it here. This is
civilization--all that's left of it.
"But--" he leaned back again--"you got to take what you can get. If
the odds are too heavy, cash in and walk out. That's what I'm doing:
I'm retiring. On this planet I told you about, there's a big island.
A tropical island. Fruit--all you can eat. Little animals something
like wild pigs. Fish in the ocean. Gravity just a little under Earth
normal, atmosphere perfect. And I'm taking along everything else
we'll need. Generators, all kinds of electrical equipment, stoves,
everything. It'll last your lifetime and mine."