She was surprised. 'Not tell you?'
'I think it best, but it could put you in some danger. Are you still willing?'
'I can take care of myself,' she said evenly.
'I think you can. And I really don't think these people will want to mess with a crewmember. It'd make too much trouble for them.' I felt for Winnie in the dark. She found my hand and grasped it, and I squatted down and said, 'Winnie, I want you to go with Lori here. You go with her, okay? She'll put you in a nice place where you can sleep. You'll be alone, but you won't be afraid. Jake will come get you later.' Her grip tightened. 'No, I won't forget you, Winnie. But you must be very quiet and be a good girl. Lori will come to visit you and take you to get food. But you mustn't be afraid. Understand? Nothing will happen to you. No one will hurt you. Okay?'
'Kay!'
'You'll be a good girl?'
'G'gowull!'
'Huh? Oh, yeah, good girl.' I cracked the hatch and looked out, then closed it. 'Almost forgot. We need a way to communicate. I don't trust the room phones. Can you get a written message to me?'
'I think so.'
'Good. After you hide her, send this message to stateroom 409-B. Got that? 409-B. Send this: 'Your suit will be ready tomorrow morning.''
She repeated it.
'Right. That's tonight's message. For emergencies, send… um, let's see. Send, 'The galley regrets it can't provide the special wine you ordered.''
She repeated that and said, 'Got it.'
'Now, can I leave messages at your cabin?'
'Yeah, just slip it under the door. I'll be there when I'm off-duty. I get so worn out, most of the time I'm sacking anyway.'
'Okay. Here.' I took her hand and pressed a wad of bills into it.,
'No, you don't have to.'
'Take it, and no back talk. You're taking a risk and you should be paid. Never be an altruist. It'll kill you in the end.'
'What's an altruist?'
'It's what everyone wants the universe to think they are, but the universe knows better. Never mind.' I looked out again. 'Right. Get going, and don't let anyone see you with Winnie if you can help it.'
'Right. C'mon, Winnie.'
I watched them tiptoe down the dark passageway, then turn a comer.
17
And who should I see on my way back up? None other than the Weird Bastard stepping out of his cabin, catching sight of yours truly and slithering back into his hole like a mudsnake. I sprang forward and shouldered the hatch, wedging my boot between it and the frame.
'A word with you, sir.'
'Get out of here!'
'We really have to talk.'
He threw his weight against me hard and nearly took my foot off, but I shoved back.
After a struggle, he stopped pushing and leaned against the hatch. 'I'll call security!' he said.
'You can reach the phone from here?'
He thought it over. No, guess not. 'What do you want?'
'As I said, a few words with you.'
'Say 'em.'
'Actually, I wanted to take you to dinner. Have some friends I want you to meet. They live in the ocean, you see, and they have big, nasty teeth.'
Suddenly his weight was off the hatch. I threw it open and dashed into the room where he was already rifling through a satchel on the bed. I kidney-punched him and maneuvered him into a full nelson, made sure he hadn't gotten to the gun, then threw him against the bulkhead. He hit it with a thud and crumpled. I went through the satchel until I found it. A good little piece, a Smith & Wesson 10kw with a Surje powerpack grip, compact, lightweight, and deadly.
He was on the floor with his back against the bulkhead, groaning but conscious, looking at me worriedly. I went to the hatch, closed and locked it, then walked toward him, twirling the pistol.
'Maybe you'd like to explain that little episode on the beach,' I said, 'while you still have a working mouth.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'You'll have to do better than that.'
He ran a hand through his unruly salt-and-pepper hair, then spent a good deal of time scraping himself off the floor. I stood well back, watching for the sudden move. He was a big man, but if I was any judge he didn't have any fight in him, just a streak of guile that he was trying to hide now with a
'I asked you if the water was safe, and you said yes. It wasn't.'
Innocence bloomed on him like mold. 'I didn't know! I see people swimming in there all the time!'
'How long do they usually last?'
'Huh?'
He was lying, of course, but right then it occurred to me that I didn't need another enemy on board. He could have other uses. 'You didn't know about the danger?'
'No, I swear. Look,
I didn't bother to ask why he'd run at the sight of me, deciding to live the lie with him. 'Well,' I said, 'if you're telling the truth, it looks like I owe you an apology.'
'It's the truth, I swear it.' He stepped away from the wall and straightened his clothes. 'I don't swim myself, but I have seen people in the water from time to time.'
'Uh-huh.' I gave him a conciliatory grin. 'Well, I guess it's all been a mistake then. Hope you'll accept my apologies.'
He was all eager smile, his body sagging in relief. 'No problem, no problem,' he said. 'I can understand. I guess you were hopping mad. Don't blame you, I really don't. These things happen.'
'Yeah.' I handed him his gun. 'No hard feelings, I hope.'
'No, no, none at all. Like I said, I don't blame you a bit. Would've felt the same way myself.' He slipped the gun into a pocket of his bright-blue jumpsuit. 'Tell you what. Let me buy you a drink.'
'Sounds great.'
I let Paul Hogan buy me a drink. The lounge was crowded, noisy, and the drinks were expensive. We talked pleasantly for a while over mugs of local brew. Turned out he was a slave trader by profession.
'Indentured servitude?' Hogan said. 'You could call it that. There's a contract involved and a term of service specified, but the contract can be bought out at any time by the contractee. Slavery?' He shook his head in protest. 'No, not at all. It's strictly a business relationship. Lots of people luck through to this maze with nothing but the clothes on their backs, their vehicles, and a pocketful of worthless currency. They need jobs, and I can get 'em. I'm a broker… an agent, that's all.' He lit a funny-looking, bright-green cigar. 'Ever tried these? Give you a real nice buzz.' He blew smoke out one side of his mouth. 'No, the reason I came over to you on the beach was because of the Cheetah. The Hothouse creature.'
'Really?'
'They make great domestics. Not many of 'em in this maze. I was going to ask you if you wanted to sell it.'
