The Song of Phaid the Gambler

by Mick Farren

  'Well, well, it's the hero of the revolution, and early, too. What's wrong, friend Phaid? Aren't you collecting wages from the Day Oners?'

  Phaid dropped into a chair some distance from the light, at the same time making sure that his blaster was within easy reach.

  'You look rough, Roni-Vows. Being on the run doesn't seem to agree with you.'

  'You don't look so good yourself.'

  'I've only been drinking. I don't have to stay one jump ahead of a lynch mob.'

  'I wouldn't be too sure of that.'

  'Meaning?'

  'Meaning that if the rebels should find out that their crazy killer hero was a sham, I wouldn't like to be in your shoes.'

  Phaid nodded.

  'Aah.'

  'It was one of the rare occasions that the high and mighty Solchaim bothered to confide in me. He seemed to think that you might be useful to us if he invested you with the phoney reputation. I can't say I totally understood what the creature was thinking about. The elaihi lived in a world of his own.'

  'Last time we talked you were wondering how to get rid of Solchaim.'

  'Times change.'

  'Don't they just. I suppose you've got me up here for some kind of blackmail. If you have, I've got to tell you in front that you're wasting your time. I don't have a damn thing you can stick me up for.'

  Roni-Vows laughed. It was a cold, brittle sound, devoid of humour.

  'Quite the reverse, dear boy. We have no desire to blackmail you. In fact, we want to put that fake reputation of yours to good use. We can even offer you a consider­able sum in hard currency for the service.'

  'What service?'

  There was a long pause while Roni-Vows said nothing. Even when he did speak, his words were hesitating.

  'Well, dear boy, this may come as a bit of a surprise . . .'

  'Cut out the dramatic effects and get to the point. Who do you want me to kill?'

  Roni-Vows' hands fluttered. For a brief instant, he was almost his old butterfly self.

  'Dear me, you are jumping to the wrong conclusions today, aren't you? We don't want anyone killed. Not unless it's absolutely necessary.'

  'So what do you want?'

  Roni-Vows took a deep breath.

  'We want you to take our late president out of the country.'

  Streetlife was instantly on his feet.

  'Don't listen to them. Just talkin' to these pussies is too many steps to a slow gallows.'

  Phaid was very calm.

  'I hope you're offering one hell of a lot of money.'

  Streetlife was close to pleading.

  'Don't even think about it, brother. Don't even think about it. Let's get the hell out of here and turn these people in. It'd keep our asses out of a vice and there might be a reward in it."

  Roni-Vows quietly raised a small fuse tube.

  'If your excitable companion doesn't control himself, I'm going to be forced to burn a hole in him.'

  Streetlife looked anxiously at Phaid.

  'Will you listen to. me . . .'

  Roni-Vows cut him off.

  'If your companion bothered to think for a moment, he'd realise that having brought you here and solicited your assistance in this matter, there would be absolutely no possibility of your leaving here alive if you rejected our offer.'

  Phaid looked at Streetlife.

  'You'd better sit down and listen to what they have to say. We don't have very much choice in the matter.'

  Roni-Vows permitted himself a thin smile.

  'You seem to be learning sense.'

  Streetlife was going to protest, but then he saw that the fuse tube was still pointed at him and thought better of it. He sat down, glaring at both Phaid and the courtiers.

  Phaid ignored him and leaned back in his chair.

  'Since I don't seem to have any option but to go along with all this, you'd better start filling me in on a few details.'

  As the scheme unfolded, it started to look, to say the least, precarious.

  'You say that the marikhs are sending in just one line train in two days' time?'

  Roni-Vows nodded.

  'That's right.'

  'One and only one. The so-called Committee seems to have managed to do a deal with the marikhs in order to bring in supplies and also allow a few trusted people out of the city.'

  'And we have letters of transit that will get five of us on to that train?'

  'You, your . . . uh . . . companion, the president, Edelline-Lan and myself. The president will be travelling as your girlfriend or mistress, call it what you will, a reformed prostitute.'

  'A delicate touch.'

  'I thought so.'

  'So, when we're on the train, we'll be in marikh country, and all will be well?'

  'Just so long as we don't get spotted at the terminal, we're home and dry once we're on the train.'

  Streetlife entered the conversation with an angry grunt.

  'If we don't get spotted, huh? And what if we do? The Day Oners will invent a whole new way of slow death specially for us.'

  'We'd better make sure that we aren't spotted.'

  Streetlife looked at Phaid and shook his head.

  'I don't know why you're even bothering to listen to these creeps. As far as I can see, this deal's nothing short of fancy suicide.'

  'I'm listening to them because they're going to burn us down if I don't. Can you think of a better reason?'

  '1 wish I'd never walked into this mess.'

  'Well you did, so you better start rolling with it.'

  'Rolling? Sweet Lords, I'm rolling.'

  Phaid turned his attention back to Roni-Vows.

  'Once we're on the train, what happens then?'

  'We take the train as far as Fennella and then we switch to one that goes to Bluehaven, to the edge of the ice plain. After that, we take an iceboat to Losaw, the chief city of the Tharmiers.'

  The Tharmiers are willing to shelter the ex-president?'

  'Not willing, but they won't hand her back to the rebels. We know that much. These contingency plans have been made for a long time.'

  Phaid nodded.

  'Okay, so now tell us about the money.'

  Roni-Vows half smiled.

  'This is the part that you'll probably enjoy. You get ten thousand the morning that we leave for the line terminal. You get a further twenty when we reach Fennella and the final payment of thirty thousand will be waiting for you when you take the president to the controller of the D'non-Loeb Counting House in the Losaw business dis­trict. The controller will take care of her from there on in, and your job will be over.'

  Phaid rubbed his unshaven chin.

  'How do we know that any of this will happen?'

  'How do you know you can trust me, and that the money will be there as I've said?'

  'That pretty well sums it up.'

  'The simple answer is that you can't. You can't trust me and I can't trust you. I just hope that a state of mutual distrust will see us through. You, after all, have no real way out.'

  Phaid nodded.

  'You've thought it all through, haven't you. Just point your weapons at me and say go do it, Phaid the Gambler? Am I right?'

  'It could be put a little more elegantly.'

  Phaid suddenly got angry.

  'It could have been thought out a little more elegantly, too. You think you've got it all covered because you've got the money arranged and letters of transit fixed and you can use my spurious reputation to sneak you on to the train. You really think you've got it made. Damn it, your upper class arrogance will kill us all in the end.'

  Roni-Vows' eyes were tight little slits. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

  'I'm talking about bloody fools who have cosy little one on ones during the course of which the goddamn elaihi takes them into his confidence and they don't even think that they might be being stroked and oiled and set up for some new horror.'

  'We considered that possibility but it was decided that we had to take
the chance. What reason could Solchaim have for wanting to set us up?'

  Phaid was on his feet, alcohol was still pumping angrily through his veins.

  'Reason? Reason? What reason has he ever needed in the past? He's an elaihi and we're human. He doesn't like us and I'm pretty sure he has plans for us. That's the problem with you courtiers. You're so wrapped up in your own intrigues and your illusions of power you always underestimate Solchaim. Most of the time he has you dancing like marionettes.'

  'You think he has us dancing like marionettes now?'

  'Probably.'

  'And I suppose you even know where he's dancing us to?'

  Phaid had no more patience left.

  'Of course not. I don't pretend to know what the elaihi has planned. He's a great deal cleverer than me, he's a great deal cleverer than all us. The only thing that I've learned is to smell when he's behind something and I'm smelling it right now. Everything to do with the creature has to be totally suspect. The sooner you people learn that, the safer we'll all be.'

  Roni-Vows shook his head.

  'Come on, now. You're being altogether too emotional about this. The only danger to you is the very real one of being stopped at the terminal. After you've come through that and you're out of the Republic, all you have to do is collect your money and go on your way. You're not required to worry about what may happen next or what Solchaim may be up to or even the cosmic ramifications of our actions.'

  Phaid glared.

  'I may not be required but I sure as hell keep getting caught up in and nearly killed by things that don't concern me.'

  'But you're going to do what we want despite all this.'

  Phaid suddenly deflated.

  'Yeah, I'm going to do what you want. I'll get your goddamn president out of the city for you, but hear me good, Roni-Vows, at the slightest hint of trouble I ditch the whole enterprise. I'm saving me long before I save anyone else. You understand?'

  Roni-Vows regarded Phaid bleakly.

  'We never imagined that it would be any other way.'

  Phaid sat down again.

  'There is one thing I don't understand at all.'

  'What's that?'

  'Why bother?'

  'I beg your pardon.'

  'Why bother? Why go to all this trouble for Chrystiana-Nex? Who needs her? Why don't you just escape and leave her to the rebels? She's a dangerous psycho and probably deserves everything she gets.'

  Roni-Vows smiled a tight little smile.

  'That's unquestionably true. She is also a figurehead, however. Given time, she could become a central rallying point for a retaking of the city.'

  Phaid looked as though he didn't believe a word of it.

  'How the hell does she become a rallying point? Even the cops have grown to hate her.'

  'It's amazing how quickly people forget. After a few months of life under the Day Oners, they will long for the good old times of Chrystiana-Nex. That would be the start of a movement to bring her back to power.'

  'But she's mad.'

  'Well, of course, she isn't actually going to be given any power. She'll simply be a puppet.'

  'Whose puppet?'

  This time Roni-Vows' smile was wide and evil.

  'Mine, my associates and whoever puts up the money for the takeover.'

  'Money.'

  'We'd need an army.'

  'Who the hell is going to buy you an army?'

  'We already have a choice of investors. Some of our own mobsters would finance the overthrow of the rebels. There are also some of the more expansionist-minded rulers of nearby city states who would like to have a stake in the Republic.'

  Phaid's face was blank.

  'You really do have it all covered, don't you?'

  'I like to think so.'

  'Where is Chrystiana-Nex right now?'

  'Here.'

  'Here?'

  'Upstairs, in the Crystal Room.'

  'Is that the one with the famous view?'

  'I'm afraid the famous view is covered over with steel shutters. The owners took great care to protect their antique plexiglass before they fled. You can go up and see her if you want.'

  Phaid looked down at his hands. The nails were chipped and dirty. He stroked his week-long growth of beard.

  'I never came face to face with a president before, even an ex-president.'

  'You think that perhaps you ought to look a bit better.'

  Phaid shrugged, but unconsciously brushed dirt off his coat.

  'Maybe, something like that.'

  'I wouldn't let it worry you. Chrystiana-Nex isn't paying too much attention to what's going on here. She's kind of withdrawn.'

  'What do you mean, withdrawn?'

  'You'll see.'

  Roni-Vows stood up. He led Phaid up a set of small stairs and on to the upper floor—the Crystal Room. Even with the plexiglass roof sheeted over, it was still magnifi­cent. It was like being inside a huge chandelier. Cascading falls of cut plexiglass split all the light in the place into moving, brilliant rainbows.

  Chrystiana-Nex was sitting at the far end of the room, hunched over a transparent table, apparently staring into an arrangement of dimly glowing filaments. Although the room was comparatively warm, she was wrapped in a thick fur cape. She didn't look up as the two men entered. Roni-Vows approached her, but still she didn't signify that there was anyone there. Finally, he spoke to her.

  'We have finalised the arrangements for your leaving the city, my president.'

  There was no response.

  'We will be leaving in two days, my president. This man with me is Phaid. He is going to be assisting me in making your journey possible, my president.'

  Chrystiana-Nex still gave no sign that she had heard him speak. Roni-Vows leaned close to her.

  'It is important that you listen to me, my president. This journey that we are about to undertake will not be without danger.'

  Slowly she began to lift her head. Phaid was suddenly struck by the fact that she was much smaller than he had imagined. He saw the familiar, scraped back platinum hair, the jutting cheekbones and the wide, powerful mouth. Something, however, seemed to be missing. The ice-blue eyes had somehow lost their compelling quality, the fire had gone out of them, she seemed to have lost the ability to turn men's heads and make whole cities act against their better judgement.

  'Danger? I am in no danger. This is my city.'

  'You have to go on a journey.'

  'I don't wish to leave the city at this point in time.'

  'You have to go on a journey with Phaid here.'

  Something cold and leaden was sinking through Phaid's stomach. The woman was a wreck, a hollow shell. There was no way that he could navigate this mental ruin through the Levels of surveillance that they would have to pass in order to get on to the line train. Phaid quietly grasped Roni-Vows' elbow.

  'You can burn me down or whatever, but this just isn't going to work.'

  'When the elaihi left, he took part of her with him.'

  'I don't care what happened, she can't make this journey.'

  'Of course I can.'

  Both men turned and looked at Chrystiana-Nex. The change in her was so sudden it was frightening. She was sitting up straight, her eyes had flashed on with the old intensity.

  'You have no need to worry about me . . . Phaid.' Coldly, she looked him up and down. 'So you are Phaid, are you?'

  Phaid's flesh was getting ready to crawl, but then the eyes snapped off as abruptly as they had come on. The blonde head sank slowly down on to the fur swathed chest. The ex-president was like a marionette with the strings cut. Phaid turned slowly to face Roni-Vows. Anger was welling up inside him.

  'What the hell is going on in here?'

  'I don't know, I really don't know. Let's just get her out of the city.'

  'No way, absolutely no way. It's impossible.'

  'It'll be okay, trust me.'

  'Trust you . . . ?'

  Phaid was speechless. Then Chrystiana-Ne
x's voice made them both swing around once again. She was up and alert.

  'He's right, Phaid. You don't have to worry.'

  Chapter 24

  'I’ve got a message for you. News of an old friend.'

  'Oh yeah?'

  Phaid propped himself up on one elbow. Although it was well past noon, Phaid was still in bed. Edelline-Lan, however, was a picture of brisk efficiency.

  'Word came from Vist-Roxon.'

  Phaid sat all the way up. More than once he had wondered what had happened to the elderly courtier.

  'Is he okay? Did he get out of the city?'

  'Somehow he has managed to make it to Orsine's country retreat where, by all accounts, he is a welcome guest.'

  Phaid smiled and shook his head.

  'Well, I'll be damned. How did you hear all this?'

  'We've got our contacts with the mobs.'

  'But how did Vist-Roxon know that I was here with you?'

  Edelline-Lan grinned at Phaid's instant flash of suspi­cion.

  'You don't let a thing get past you, do you?'

  'I try not to, but you're not answering the question. How did he know I was here?'

  'He didn't. He just asked that if anyone was to see you he'd be grateful if they passed the word. Are you going to get out of bed?'

  Phaid lay down again.

  'Why bother? If I'm expected to get myself killed tomorrow I figure I might as well rest up while I can. Why don't you join me?'

  Phaid had naturally sought the company of Edelline-Lan during the time he was forced to wait around at the Hanging Goddess. When it had become clear that he wasn't leaving except to go to the line terminal, he hadn't particularly wanted to sit around on his own, brooding about the dubious future. Edelline-Lan was certainly the most attractive person in the small clique of fugitive courtiers. Much more impatiently, she also offered the only companionship in and around the Hanging Goddess.

  Roni-Vows avoided Phaid as much as possible. Street­life seemed to hold him responsible for the entire situation and. in this case, it was Phaid who did the avoiding. The other courtiers both despised and distrusted Phaid. They all ignored him as being something beneath their con­tempt. The only exceptions to the wall of high born silence were a few of the younger bloods like Trimble-Dun, who bristled like torn cats anytime Phaid came near them. If Roni-Vows hadn't kept them on a tight rein, they would have used any excuse to pick a fight with Phaid, and then done their damnedest to kill him.