"Now comes the part you've really been asking for," I said. I crouched,
bent her over my knee, and brought my hand down. Hard. Three times in
all, putting everything I had into it.
"Now," I said, letting her get up, "maybe you'll quit bothering guys
who worked all their lives to get in a spot where they could go out and
be of some help in the only job they ever wanted--the TSN. Do you think
you really stack up worth a damn beside the only thing that counts?"
She just stood there, tears of rage in her eyes. I was never sure
whether it was what I'd done or what I said that had her so mad, but
the last thing I heard her say as I walked away was: "Damn you, Ash
Holcomb! Damn you for being such a snobbish stuck-up...."
Well, maybe I was wrong and maybe I wasn't. I didn't know as much in
those days as I should have, either. But it was too late now--too late
by a war and a hundred revolutions, too late by all the men who'd gone
down before my guns, too late by years of loneliness and bitterness.
But if it was too late, why did I remember it all now, with Thorsten up
in the Asteroids, a little king in his own right, with me in the New
Shanghai, a white ray-burn splashed through my hair, with the Academy a
dim thing behind both of us, and Pat--
Why was Pat here? What had she done through the years, while I fought
my way from one end of the System to the other, and Harry took the
easy way out during the war?
* * * * *
"Hello, Pat," I said. "I haven't seen you in a long time." Well, what
else was I going to say?
I don't know what she had expected me to say. She kept her face in
profile, and didn't let me see what it was showing.
"I'm here on business. I hear you're a good man, these days, for the
job I've got." She twisted the words like a knife.
All right, if she wanted it that way, she'd get it.
"So they tell me," I said.
"Fifteen thousand for a month's work."
She said it quietly, without any build-up. Maybe she figured fifteen
thousand didn't need one.
I sat there for a minute, not saying anything, but thinking hard. What
kind of a setup was she offering me? Was this the big job that was
floating around? There's usually a sure way to find out. When someone
offers you a blind deal, argue. Maybe they'll get mad, or scared you
won't take it, and spill something.
"No, thanks," I said.
She frowned. "Don't try haggling with me, Ash. I can get somebody just
as good for less."
"I don't doubt it. You could probably get three. That's why I don't
want any part of it. It's sucker bait."
She looked at me for the first time, mouth twisted.
"Since when does a hired gun like you turn down that kind of money? The
job's worth it, believe me."
That hit me. But I couldn't afford to get touchy.
"Probably is. But with standard pay at three thousand a month, plus
bounties and commissions, this little errand of yours, whatever it may
be, must break so many laws it could land me in a death house," I said,
watching her eyes.
It didn't add up. Nothing added up. Why had she picked me, in the first
place? I had a reputation as one of the better gunnies, sure, but there
were at least twenty guys I'd never draw against, if I could help it,
and four or five of them were available. Because she'd known me? And
this job--what kind of hanky-panky was going on at these prices?
I watched her eyes acquiring dangerous highlights. The temper that went
with that hair was beginning to stir.
"Do you want to get in on the biggest deal that's ever been pulled off
in space or don't you?" she said. "Or are you going to chicken out?"
she added contemptuously.