“Sit,” the man commanded.
Fenli, warily, gave him his hardest look and lowered his weight onto the padded stool. Miko took a seat next to him.
“What have you to deal, gentlemen?” the gambler asked. “I trust you know the rules of our ‘parlour’?”
Fenli shrugged. “One game’s as familiar as the other.”
“That’s a good attitude, stranger.” This earned Fenli several raised eyebrows and a chuckle.
“What am I to call you by?” he asked.
Fenli gave a grand gesture and a yawn. “This is Mr. Mak and I’m Mr. Fik.”
The man smiled—a shark-like grin. “Well, Messrs. Mak and Fik, welcome to the Skull Hotel. I’m Teebla, and these are my associates, Gayad and Ribshot.”
Fenli waved impatiently. “We carry no funds—for security reasons. But—” he dangled the blue chip taken from Salhan in front of the gambler’s nose. “We have this, which may interest you.”
“And what’s this?”
“What do you think? Where do you want to see our merchandise?”
“No need.” The gambler flicked a switch at his keypad. “Let’s see what you have.”
Miko saw a dispenser console wheel up on a robotic pedestal similar to what they had seen back in the tram-depot.
Fenli tensed, his jaw muscles bunching. His eyes sparked. “What we have to trade is not for public eyes,” he hissed. “A hot item, which could get us in a lot of trouble. You too.”
“All the better,” Gayad muttered. “Come on, let’s see it. We are all friends here.”
An awkward pause fell over the table.
“For whose eyes, is it?” quipped Ribshot.
Teebla waved. “Relax.” He coughed, pitching words in a diplomatic manner. “Many traders come to secure deals from far worlds: metals, chemicals, stones, dusts, elixirs. Others trade jewels, contraband, snow, even engage in human trafficking.”
“Is it legal?” demanded Miko.
The gambler shrugged. “An odd word to use around here. The phrase we use in Skullrox is, is it black market worthy? The thief-takers choose to ignore most of what goes on here. It makes business rather lucrative for men like us. I’m a casual gambler, sometimes compulsive, who wagers goods as easily as credits. Ribshot here enjoys the thrill of a chase, a part-time junkie. Gayad is another story.” He took a drag on his water pipe. “What brings you here?”
“Business,” responded Miko crisply. He glared at Fenli before he could interject an insult that would compromise their already precarious position. By this time the snow he had ingested had caused a languid grin to settle on his face, and his eyes to cloud over in a dreamy expression.
“Insert your token then. Otherwise we have nothing to talk about.”
Fenli reluctantly inserted the blue chip in the machine’s outer panel. A bright tinkling of machinery gave way to a lurid picture of the Jakru tank appearing on the holo-screen.
Chins lifted and men tilted back in their chairs, eyes staring at the curled horns and suggestive curves of the woman floating in the tank.
Teebla ogled the sleek body of the Jakru woman with a lascivious leer.
Miko tensed at the men’s attention. He would not forgive himself if anything happened to the woman. He cursed that he had ever allowed Fenli to bring him here and con him into this sleazy scheme. A sick feeling welled in the pit of his stomach.
“The tank is an extra special touch, master Fik,” the gambler commented idly. “Such wonderful horns... Unless the woman is still alive, we will not make a deal.” He pressed a button and the holograph swirled to become a real form.
Miko gasped. Fenli’s mouth hung slack. “Dim it!” Fenli hissed. “Most folk wouldn’t take kindly to us possessing such a package, not to mention the city watch.”
The gambler chortled. “Yes, she’s alive. I saw her eyes move. Well, I’ll be damned...” He wound the dial back and both Jakru and tank disappeared back into holo form again. Eyes had turned, interested in what had riled the players, but from what Miko had seen, nobody had gained a proper look at the woman.
Miko’s scowl widened. His grey eyes darted toward the exit. He shook his head at Fenli, whispering under his breath: “I advise you to hurry up with your bids before this place blows up on us.”
Fenli waved him off. “I’m on it.” He spoke sweetly to Teebla, “Shall we proceed?”
“Punch the green light to agree to the terms. The house will extend you the estimate of the product’s worth, I’m guessing around 50000 credits. Such sums are automatically protected under common gamblers’ rights—from seizure by the authorities—minus a 6000 credit fee. Are you on board? That or we could go for double or nothing. If you lose, both you and the bathing beauty will become my property.”
“6000 credits?” gasped Miko.
“The going rate, based on the estimated value of the merchandise.” The gambler turned to Fenli with an evil eye, and some new amazement. “A Jakru dignitary... Well, gentlemen, you’re something else, and I had sized you up as chumps.”
Teebla seemed to become expansive upon sight of the merchandise. “Ice crystals, attendant!” He waved over a young server. “’Tis our local delicacy here. And courtesy of the house.”
The oceanless planet was lacking in clear water, from what Miko had gathered from Teebla’s talk.
