The Gateway Trip

come into the Spindle, looking as though he owned it and everything it held and was thinking about liquidating his holdings. He sat down in Sub Vastra's imitation of a combination Paris boulevard-Heechee sidewalk cafй. 'Scotch,' he said, without even looking to see if he was being waited on. He was. Vastra hurried to pour John Begg over supercooled ice and hand it to him, all crackling with cold and numbing to the lips. 'Smoke,' he said, and the girl with him instantly lit a cigarette and passed it to him. 'Crummy-looking dump,' he observed, glancing around, and Vastra fell all over himself to agree.

I sat down next to them-well, I mean not at the same table; I

didn't even look their way. But from the next table I could hear everything they said. Vastra didn't look at me, either, but of course he had seen me come in and knew I had my eye on these promising new marks. I had to let his number-three wife take my order instead of Vastra himself, because Vastra certainly wasn't going to waste his time on a tunnel-rat when he had a charter-ship Terry at his table. 'The usual,' I said to her, meaning straight alk in a tumble of soft drink. 'And a copy of your briefing,' I added more softly. Her eyes twinkled understandingly at me over her flirtation veil. Cute little vixen. I patted her hand in a friendly way and left a rolled-up bill in it; then she left.

The Terry was inspecting his surroundings, which included me. I looked back at him, polite but distant, and he gave me a sort of quarter-nod and turned back to Subhash Vastra. 'Since I'm here,' he said, in all the right tones for a bored tourist, 'I might as well sample whatever action you've got. What's to do here?'

Sub Vastra grinned widely, like a tall, skinny frog. 'Ah, whatever you wish, sah! Entertainment? In our private rooms we have the finest artists of three planets, nautch dancers, music, fine comedians-'

'We've got enough of that stuff in Cincinnati. I didn't come to Venus for a nightclub act.' Cochenour couldn't have known it, of course, but that was the right decision to make; Sub's private rooms were way down the list of night spots on Venus, and even the top of the list wasn't much.

'Of course, sah! Then perhaps you would like to consider a tour?'

'Aw.' Cochenour shook his head. 'What's the point of running around? Does any of the planet look any different than the space pad we came in on, right over our heads?'

Vastra hesitated. I could see him doing swift arithmetic in his head, measuring the chance of persuading the Terry to go for a surface tour against what he might get from me as his commission on something bigger. He didn't look my way. Honesty won out-

that is, honesty reinforced by a quick appraisal of Cochenour's gullibility. 'Not much different, no, sah,' he admitted. 'All pretty hot and dry on the surface, all the same, pretty much. But I did not think of the surface.'

'What then?'

'Ah, the Heechee warrens, sah! There are many miles of same just below this settlement. A reliable guide could be found-'

'Not interested,' Cochenour growled. 'Not in anything that

1 '

close.

''Sah?''

'If a guide can lead us through them,' Cochenour explained, 'that means they've all been explored, which means if there was anything good in them it's been looted already. What's the fun of that?'

'Of course!' Vastra cried immediately. 'I understand your meaning, sah.' He looked noticeably happier, and I could feel his radar reaching out to make sure I was listening, though he still didn't look in my direction at all. 'To be sure,' he went on weightily, an expert explaining complexities to a valued client, 'there is always the chance that one may find new digs, sah, provided one knows where to look. Am I correct in assuming that this would interest you?'

The Third of Vastra's house had brought me my drink and a thin powder-faxed slip of paper. 'Thirty percent,' I whispered to her. 'Tell Sub. Only no bargaining and no getting anybody else to bid.' She nodded and winked; she'd been listening too, of course, and she was as sure as I was that this Terry was firmly on the hook.

It had been my intention to nurse my drink as long as I could, while the mark ripened under Vastra's skillful ministrations, but it looked like prosperity was looming ahead. I was ready to celebrate. I took a long, happy swallow.

Unfortunately, the hook didn't seem to have a barb. Unaccountably, the Terry shrugged. 'Waste of time, I bet,' he grumbled. 'I mean, really, if anybody knew where to look, why wouldn't he have looked there on his own already, right?'

 

'Ah, mister!' Vastra cried, beginning to panic. 'But I assure you, there are hundreds of tunnels not yet explored! Thousands, sah! And in them, who knows, treasures beyond price very likely!'

Cochenour shook his head. 'Let's skip it,' he said. 'Just bring us another drink. And see if you can't get the ice really cold this time.''

 

That shook me. My nose for money was rarely wrong.

I put down my drink and half turned away to hide what I was doing from the Terries as I looked at