The Wizard of Karres

how we can get Hantis and Pul to the Imperial Capital in time, if it's going to take them that long.'

'It'd be quicker to haul the engines out and put a new drive in. They could do that in a couple of days.'

'Well, then, that's what we need to do,' said Goth, decisively.

The captain shook his head. 'If we had a couple of spare million, we could do it. And stop thinking of Wansing's jewels, Goth. They'd catch us for sure. And besides, it's not right.'

'It's an emergency, Captain,' said Goth thoughtfully. By now her reserved manner fooled him not at all. The captain knew that she was thinking seriously about larceny.

Well, to be honest, so was he. They had a vital mission to complete, after all. But it still went against his grain.

He sighed. 'Give me a few minutes to think. We must have some way of raising the money.'

'I could go and play some poker,' said the Leewit, appearing from behind the couch, the Agandar's cards in her hand.

'I suspect they might think that they were marked, child,' said the captain, managing at least half a smile.

'Oh, they are,' said the Leewit cheerfully. 'Look. Here on the edges.' She dealt a card out, face up. 'See that pattern around the edge? It's different on some of them. Lisol and Ta'himmin spotted it back on Nartheby. Those Sprites have got sharp eyes.'

'But that's on the face of the cards. That's no good. It's got to be on the edges or on the backs.' Goth was betraying more knowledge of cardsharping than the captain would have expected.

The Leewit snorted. 'So why is the royal flush marked then, smarty?'

The captain felt that odd scalp-crawling sensation that he got from klatha events. He reached slowly for the cards. 'Not,' he said in a hushed voice, 'to enable the previous owner to cheat at cards.'

'What?' said Goth, puzzled.

The captain looked at the two of them, and, dealing the cards out face up, separated out the suits. 'Just who was the previous owner of this pack of cards?' he asked.

'The Agandar. Criminy! You mean . . . ?'

'Yes,' said the captain, sorting the suits into order. 'I think this pack of cards that the Leewit has been carrying around in her pocket is what the Agandar's pirates were looking for all along.'

He drew the royal flush out of each suit and laid them out. 'I think . . . I'm sure the answer is right here. Right in front of our eyes.' He stared intently at the picture-cards. Patterns imported centuries ago from Old Yarthe, that had altered gradually over the centuries.

The Agandar had been on Uldune. Bloody-historied Uldune. The world whose pirate fleets had once spread fear and terror across a huge sector of the galaxy. The world that had turned from piracy and raiding to become the clearing house of half the dubious merchandise in the galaxy. A place that still welcomed pirates, at least successful ones.

Why had the Agandar been on Uldune? To follow up the rumor of a new spacedrive? Or had he been on Uldune anyway, for another purpose?—when his spies had brought him the rumor that the Venture was being renamed the Evening Bird by courtesy of the Daal's highly efficient staff of forgers.

Uldune still welcomed pirates. Successful pirates.

It provided, among other services, a fence for stolen goods and . . . banking. The pirates of ancient history hid their loot in secret hoards on desert islands, but the modern pirate was more likely to use a bank vault. Or a numbered private account. Kleesp's accomplice had actually said as much! Pausert was willing to bet that the cards in front of him held the key to just such a numbered account. But the question was: how? He studied the pattern on the edge of the cards. It was a simple repeat-pattern, hand-painted and skillfully so, but still nothing more than that, at least as far as he could see.

'I'll bet it's supposed to give us the numbers of the Agandar's bank accounts. Probably with the Daal's Bank. But for the life of me I can't see what the numbers could be. I suppose you could count which number of the repeat pattern was wrong, but what order would they go in?

He picked up the four sets of marked suits. 'See,' he said, dealing them out again. 'There are sixteen repeats of this pattern on the top margin. Each one of these cards has a different one of those repeats altered.' He moved the cards around, arranging them in the order of the altered repeat pattern on the top edge. 'We can make pretty patterns, but they don't . . . ulp.'

As he laid the last card in the row, the altered patterns linked up. There was a brief hum and a small hyperelectronic screen and keypad appeared above the cards.

Letters began forming on the screen: ENTER ACCESS CODE.

'They aren't cards at all,' whispered the captain. 'It's a hyperelectronic computer. Those are circuits, not just patterns.'

'And a mini-subradio!' said Goth. 'No wonder the Agandar was able to keep in touch with his fleet.'

The captain shook his head incredulously. 'He even said he had a secret shielded transmitter! The Sheem robot was also hyperelectronic. We should have guessed.'

'Only question is: what's the access code?' asked the Leewit.' Then, a little plaintively: 'And when do I get my cards back?'

'That's two questions,' said the captain. 'And I don't know either answer.'

ENTER CODE WITHIN THE NEXT THIRTY SECONDS.

'Or . . . ? I guess we don't dare find out,' muttered the captain. 'I need to be lucky. I need every ounce of klatha power.' He took a deep breath and began to type a sequence of numbers.

Nothing happened.

FIVE SECONDS

'Hit enter,' said Goth.

CODE ACCEPTED. DESTRUCT PROGRAM ABORTED.

A menu popped up. A very ordinary menu of choices, including subradio banking.

Pausert exhaled slowly. Then, accessed the subradio banking option.

'I think,' he said, 'the Leewit's cards have given us the jackpot. Let's see if we can transfer enough into my account to allow us to simply buy new engines, and forget about repairs. That'll be a lot faster.'

When the figures came up, the Leewit whistled softly. 'We could buy a whole new ship,' said Goth.

'Buy a whole clumping fleet!' exclaimed her sister.

The captain shook his head. 'The paperwork would take longer and attract more attention than a repair job. Besides, I like the old Venture. She's been places with us that no new ship would ever have coped with. But, when this is all over and we decide what to do with what's left of the Agandar's fortune— after we track down those of his victims we can trace—I will promise you both a refit and a redecoration of your cabins. And fifty decks of cards for the Leewit.'

'Want that one,' said the Leewit, pointing. 'Always knew those were my lucky cards.'

'Hmm. I was thinking about that share in the Petey Byrum and Keep,' said Goth thoughtfully.

 

 

CHAPTER 35

Even spending money like water, it took three days to get the 'Evening Bird' ready for space again. The captain was nervous every minute of that time, because he knew that the amount of money they were spending was sure to get someone from the ISS interested, before too long.

So, the minute the preflight checks were done, Pausert lifted the Venture. As if to make up for his brilliant landing on jury-rigged controls and with a mere three battered tubes, the takeoff was one of his worst. Still, they were space-borne before the authorities figured out just who had been spending rivers of money on little Porlumma. There were going to be some red faces if they ever they found out that they'd put in new engines for the infamous Captain Pausert, whose vid still graced Porlumma customs control offices. Still, in fairness, they could say that Captain Aron from far-off Mulm had looked nothing like the vid-picture. The stern-visaged,