Unsurprisingly, Dee disagreed. Her main point was that while the diamonds were safely stashed, the receipt that could get them handed over to the bearer was not, and could not be stashed. “I’m a third blaster,” she maintained, “and more importantly, in this getup I’m a blaster that the bad guys won’t be expecting. Besides, the Skull is the kind of place I came here to see, and I’m damned well going to see it, even in this circus costume!”
Chapter 9
The Skull was a large and raucous bar not far from Cheetah ’s berth. A large open area housed a small dance floor and a host of tables scattered about. Loud music blasted from strategically placed speakers. Around the edge were a series of triangular niches and a few convex mirrored surfaces. As soon as they entered, Cale pulled Zant and Dee back out of the entrance.
“We can’t accomplish anything in there,” he said, “it’s too loud to talk, and security would be impossible.” He nodded toward a small, seemingly quiet restaurant nearby. “Much as I hate to split our forces, I think Zant should go into the Skull to find his contact, and Dee and I should wait in the restaurant.”
Zant shook his head. “We should stay together. Besides, you saw the triangular niches around the edge of the main room. Well, they are really booths, and they’re all equipped with privacy screens and hush fields. That’s what the mirrored things are — privacy screens. You can see out, but nobody can see in. A lot of business gets done there. Tell you what,” he continued, “We’ll go in and escort the queen, here, to a private domain. You engage the privacy screen and hush field, and the two of you can have your blasters already out while I go up to the bar to find out about old Rin.”
Cale was still reluctant, but let himself be convinced. He and Zant crowded against Dee’s back as they entered, and the tight triangle edged toward an empty booth, hands on blasters and heads swiveling, scanning for threats. Dee was fascinated. This was the Den of Iniquity she had expected, and the clientele certainly fit the image. Revealingly clothed and barely-clothed women smiled temptingly at bearded leather-clad men who swilled beer and galk, while others sat at the bar and tried to tempt newcomers. The threesome garnered plenty of strange looks and more than a few snickers, but they soon slid into the vacant booth. Dee gave a sigh of relief as the hush circuit cut off the raucous noise outside. A slight darkening of the view showed that Zant had engaged the privacy screen,
“Okay,” he said, “You two keep your blasters in your hands and your eyes open. That privacy screen is just that; it’s not any kind of shield. If you see trouble coming, you can just shoot through it.” He grinned. “But don’t shoot a waiter, okay?”
Before they could answer, he demonstrated by walking through the privacy screen, and headed for the bar. Cale and Dee held their blasters in their hands, and kept their eyes scanning for trouble, although Dee’s bright eyes showed her excitement at finally seeing her ‘den of iniquity’. After a few minutes, Zant headed back in their direction with a tray of drinks. Again, he walked through the screen.
He slid onto the padded bench seat, setting the tray on the table. “The bartender says Rin comes in here every day at 17 like clockwork. A waitress says the same. He has a favorite booth, and gets himself quietly flashed every day. Since we just have to wait…” he checked his ring watch, “twenty mins, I bought the drinks to keep the waiters from bothering us. Don’t drink them. The bartender turned his back while he mixed them, and I have no reason to trust him.”
They spent most of the next twenty mins teasing Dee about her taste in clothing, while simultaneously scanning for threats. Finally, Zant saw a familiar figure enter the bar and head for his preferred booth. He hurried to intercept the older man and guide him to their booth instead.
Rin Tenkin had once been tall and thin. Now, he was tall and emaciated. He wore his white hair trimmed short in spacer fashion. His sallow, puffy complexion and the tremors in his hands revealed his current preoccupation. Though he seemed sober now, there was no doubt that was a temporary situation.
The bleary eyes surveyed them, and a twinkle in his eyes and a twitchy half-smile showed that at least he was sober enough to appreciate Dee’s costume. He started to reach a shaky hand for one of their drinks, but was stopped by Zant’s hand on his wrist.
“Not yet,” Zant said. “Business first, and then you can have them all.”
“Zant Jenfu,” Tenkin said in a gravelly voice. “I thought you were dead long ago. Where’ve you been?”
Zant grinned. “Been out of circulation for awhile, Rin” he replied.
A flicker of interest showed in the bleary eyes. “Oh, yeah? Planetary rest cure?”
Zant chuckled. “Naw, nothin’ like that. I been pioneering. Found out I kinda liked woods runnin’.” He sobered. “Okay, business. Me and my friends, here, need to do some business. Are you still connected enough to give us an introduction?”
The old man frowned. “Could be. Depends on the kind of business. It’d have to be an old timer. I’ve been out of the business for quite a while, now.”
Zant frowned. It was obvious he really didn’t want to trust the old man.
Tenkin looked puzzled for a moment, and then suddenly, he grinned, and Cale could see a little of the man he had been. “Don’t worry, Zant,” he said. “I know I’m an old drunk, but don’t forget, I’ve been conditioned. Years ago, it was, but that don’t matter. Conditioning is for life. I can’t spill business info. Even if it’s not legal business.”
Zant relaxed and his normal grin resurfaced. “No worries there. It’s legal. All right, we want to sell diamonds for Alliance credits.”
Tenkin frowned. “Must be a big lot to bring you way out here for a legal sale. Hmmm. Lessee. Since it’s a legal deal, I might be able to hook you up with Res Selton. He’s a factor for several big jewel outfits. At least he was.” He took his comp pad out and keyed a long sequence.
“Res?” he said, “Rin Tenkin. Yeah. And I’m still sober, too. You still dealin’ jewels? No, no, strictly legit, but a big shipment. Sheol, I dunno. Would you tell an old drunk like me?” He laughed. “Naw, he’s an old friend. You might even remember him from a long time back. Zant Jenfu. Naw, don’t worry about it. You’ll recognize ‘em. Young fella and ol’ Zant, and a looker in an outfit you won’t believe. Oh, you heard about ‘em already?” His eyes widened and he looked at Dee. “You really got a yacht?” He switched his attention back to his call as Dee nodded. “Yeah, that’s them. Okay. Thirty mins. Got it. Yeah. Good talkin’ to you again, too. Sheol, I might even remember it, this time.” He chuckled and disconnected. He turned to Zant. “Well! Seems you’ve done better than I thought. Anyway, Res Selton will meet you in thirty mins. He’s done well, too. He has an actual office. A lot higher class than this dump.” He gave them detailed directions to Res Selton’s office.
Zant nodded. “Thanks, Rin.” He paused. “I don’t know what the going rate is for an introduction these days, but here.” He handed the old man the last of their Angeles crowns. Cale almost stopped him. Ridiculous as it sounded, they didn’t even have enough left to buy lunch! However, he stopped himself. This was Zant’s territory; he knew the rules and the customs, and Cale didn’t.
He needn’t have worried. The old man pushed the bills back across the table with a shake of his head. “Naw,” he said. “This one’s on me. You offered me these three drinks before; we’ll call it square.” For a moment, the rheumy eyes firmed with pride. “It was good to do business again. Even if it was only for a min.”
Zant grinned and rose as Rin gathered the three glasses before him. “Careful with those drinks, Rin,” he warned. “The bartender mixed them for strangers, and he turned his back while he mixed ‘em.”
The old man laughed aloud. “I don’t think ol’ Jan would drug ‘em, but if he did, I guess I’ll get a few extra hours’ sleep. Good luck!” He picked up one of the glasses, drained it in a gulp as the three friends rose, and left, as carefully as they had arrived.
Dee was scandalized. “That man is killing himself! Why doesn’t someone help him?”
Zant grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He was about to continue when Cale jumped between them.
“Drop it, Dee. He’s right. We’ll talk about it when we get back aboard!” He didn’t look at either of them; his eyes continued scanning for threats.
Dee flushed, whether with anger or embarrassment Cale couldn’t say; but Zant’s face also darkened, and he muttered, “Right. Sorry.” Before dropping back to again cover their rear.
Res Selton’s otherwise undistinguished door displayed a small brass-colored plaque announcing “Selton Import-Export.” Again taking the lead, Zant pressed the enunciator and gave his name. The door swished aside to
