by Allen Wold
'That's right," she said. "You won't get anywhere dressed as you are, even if you stay away from anybody who already knows you."
"I thought about getting some leathers, but a very considerate clerk told me I shouldn't."
"And she was right. You don't dare buy new leathers. You don't know how to wear them. Now if Arbo, for example, went out and bought new leathers, anybody who saw him would still know he was Arbo, and if they didn't know him before, they could soon tell, just by watching him, that he belonged here and knew what he was doing and would leave him alone. If they didn't have some other reason for messing with him."
"But they don't know me." Rikard took the plates from the range and set them on the table.
"That's it exactly." She started eating as if she were hungry. "You'd look just like some tourist who was trying to pass by wearing leathers. And that would be the end of you, because the first person who saw you would want to test you and teach you a lesson for your audacity."
"So what good will it do me to buy these leathers, then?"
"You buy old ones secondhand. Lots of strangers come here, people who fit right in. If you're dressed in old leathers, you'll look like one of those. Of course, the first time you open your mouth you'll give the whole show away. The disguise is thin, but it will pass casual observation. You'll be able to walk the streets—most of the time."
"Do even old-timers get mugged?"
"They sure do. But that's another problem. What we're concerned with now is enabling you to move around the city without having to worry about the casual person on the street.
"And there's another thing. Almost everybody here wears some sort of light body armor under their clothes." She leaned back from the table and opened the top few buttons of her shirt. She pulled the collars back to show a close-fitting garment of softly shimmering gray.
"You'll need a set of that too." She buttoned her shirt back up and returned to her breakfast. "It's proof against plastic pistols, needlers, freezers, daggers, light jolters, and helps a lot against everything else. It's not easy to buy a good set. You can't buy it new, and the secondhand sets on the market are there usually because the last owner didn't need it any more."
"Like dead, you mean?"
"Exactly. And that usually means the armor has been damaged. The set I'm wearing, for example, has no left sleeve. I can't tell for sure, but I think it was taken off by a shotgun. But sometimes you can find a whole set. The only problem with those is that they aren't always of standard quality, and some are outright fakes, but I think I can tell the difference."
"Is this going to cost a lot?" Rikard finished his eggs and toast.
"A bit. About three fifty altogether, maybe more." She gathered up the plates and put them away. "I know a place, though, where you can get your money's worth. Ready to go?"
They left his rooms by the main entrance. Keeping to the less frequented streets and alleys, they went west and south.
"You should be seen as little as possible," Darcy explained. "We don't want somebody to recognize you later and remember you were a tourist today."
"If we had a car, that would be easy to do."
"It would, but who's going to lay out thirty to seventy thousand unless they're planning to stay awhile?"
"That's more than I'd care to spend. Those prices are ridiculous. Is it because so few are imported?"
"You've got it. And the ones that are, are secondhand, at that, and parts are scarce. Occasionally a local will take the chance, and if she's got the fare, go out to some other world, buy up cars and parts, and if she isn't caught before she gets back, she can make a killing."
"A lot of smuggling goes on then?"
"It's Kohltri's second largest industry, after the mines. Working in the mines doesn't pay well, but they're safe, and you don't need any skills. Smuggling stuff, either in or out, can make your fortune, but your chances of survival are ve-e-ry low. Even if you get past the station, some people here make a living knocking off smugglers."
It took them about an hour to get to the secondhand shop. This turned out to be a rather large establishment, one of only three sharing that particular plant-filled courtyard. There were no other customers present and only three clerks.
"That's why I wanted to get here early," Darcy said.
"I know. The fewer people who see me the better."
"First thing is underclothes. The armor will chafe without it. You don't have to worry; it's all clean, at least in this place."
They found the right stacks and quickly picked out six sets soft silky shirts and pants.
Rikard was appalled at the prices. "This is going to come to more than three fifty."
"You could get by with less, if you don't mind smelling."
"No, go ahead. I won't have to dig into my reserve just yet."
They had more trouble with the leathers. Rikard was too slender for most of what they saw, or too tall for the rest. But at last they located an old outfit on a rack near the back of the shop.
"Looks a little odd," Darcy said critically, examining the material of the jacket. "That's why it's marked down. See? The jacket is just a little long below the belt. And this fancy stitching across the shoulders. And the color is off." It was a tan a few shades lighter than anything else in the store.
"If it fits, do I have a choice?"
"Not really, I guess. Oh, well, you see a lot of strange clothes around here. It's just that I wanted you to be as inconspicuous as possible."
"Do these boots and gloves come with the suit?"
"Sure looks like it, but they cost extra."
"I'd need boots anyway, wouldn't I?"
"Yes, and the gloves too. Okay, now for light armor."
"Do they ever sell medium or heavy?"
"Medium sometimes, if you don't mind looking like a cyborg, but nobody wears it unless they have good reason. Heavy armor you can only find if you know the person who's selling it. And once in a great while somebody will have a set of smashed-up battle armor. But none of that stuff would do you any good. Go on the streets in it, and you'd meet an ambush before you'd gone three blocks."
"Okay, so light armor it is."
This was kept in another part of the shop, and there wasn't much of it. Most of it was of the shimmery gray that Darcy wore, some a dirty white, a couple were bluish, and one was copper colored. All but three sets were damaged in some way or other. And of those that were whole, one was much too large, and the other was cut strangely so that Rikard couldn't get into it when he tried it on. That left the copper-colored suit, which fit remarkably well and was marked down.
"I don't know," Darcy said. "It feels a little soft."
"Maybe another shop."
"Possibly, if we want to wait until tomorrow. Too many people up and around now."
"Would we have a better chance at better armor?"
"About the same as here. And time is important. I think this will do you okay. If you get into real trouble, even the best light armor won't help all that much, and anyplace else it would cost more."
"Okay, so let's take it."
Their purchases took all his remaining cash. "I have a credit account," he said, "but I don't know how to get to it. At the hostel they took credit."
"Mendel will take care of it. Just knock on his door. He'll make the transaction for you."
"Very handy."
"He's a good man."
"You seem to know an awful lot for someone who's just here on a visit."
"I've been here before. And besides, if you move in my circle, you meet people who know things. Word gets around."
They left the shop, carrying his purchases. They weren't too bulky so Rikard was able to handle most of them, leaving Darcy with one free hand in case she needed to draw her gun.
"We're running a risk now," Darcy said. "Someone might be interested in trying to take all these packages from us. But if we have the stuff delivered, there'll be somebody who knows where you are, at least approximately,
and I count that as the greater risk. Now one more stop, then we'll go back to your place. Fortunately, it's on the way."
"Where is that?"
"We're going to get you a gun. If you go around in leathers without one, people will take you for a fool or a fake and take you out just for the fun of it."
"I have a gun if I need it."
"You do? Where'd you get it?"
"It's my father's."
"You mean you brought it with you? How'd you get past inspection?"
"How does everybody else bring stuff past inspection?"
"If you're bringing it here and know the people and have the fee, it's no problem. But most other worlds aren't as easy to run as Kohltri. How'd you do it?—don't tell me if you don't want to."
"No problem. It's that suitcase I have. That was my father's too. It's got a probe-proof compartment."
"Well, how about that. I've heard of that kind of thing, but I've never seen one. Does it really work?"
"It has so far. I'll show you when we get back."
They had no trouble on their way to Rikard's hideout, though more than one person eyed them and their packages covetously. When they were safely inside, they dumped their bundles on a chair in the bedroom, and Rikard got his suitcase from the closet. He laid it on the bed and opened it. It still held most of his clothes, all of which he took out.
"See if you can find it," he challenged.
Darcy looked the suitcase over very carefully as Rikard put his things away. She touched it everywhere, turned it upside down, tried the latch, twisted the handle, probed the lining.
"I give up," she said at last.
"It's in the bottom, of course, but the latch is on the hinge outside, and it will only work when the suitcase is held open like this." He held the top at a right angle to the bottom, then reached behind to touch one of the hinges. A small square outline appeared in the bottom lining.
He let the top fall all the way open, stuck his finger at the back corner of the outline, and the whole square opened up. Below was a compartment, much deeper than the thickness of the material of the suitcase. Inside was a bundle wrapped in a cloth.
"A real four-D box," Darcy said with amazement.
"It is. Not a big one. But probes can't detect it. I think there's something else about it too, a warp when it's closed, so that even a polydimensional probe couldn't tell what was there, even if it detected the compartment." He took out the bundle, closed the compartment, and it disappeared completely.
"I sure could have used that suitcase a little while back," Darcy said.
Rikard unwrapped the bundle. It contained a gun in a holster, with a belt to be worn on the hip.
"My God!" Darcy exclaimed when she saw it. "That's a megatron." It was a big gun, heavy, carrying six rounds of 20mm ammunition.
"My father gave it to me before he left. He had about a dozen guns, but this one was special, he said. It's pretty old, I think, but it's in perfect condition, and it works beautifully." He held it out to her. She took it from its holster. "It's loaded," he said.
"It's a beauty. It can stop almost everything. Have you fired it?"
"A few times."
"Good." She handed the gun back to him. "So, now why don't you get dressed, and we'll see what you look like. I’ll wait in the living room." She went out and closed the door behind her.
Rikard quickly took off his tourist clothes and dressed in his new silks, armor, and leathers. He pulled on the calf-high boots and gauntleted gloves. Then he strapped on the holster belt and set the gun into it. Feeling a little self-conscious, he went into the living room. He stood and let Darcy look him up and down.
"By damn but you look good," she said.
6
Rikard felt inordinately pleased at the compliment He wasn't sure why her opinion of his appearance should be so important to him, but he had suspicions, which he carefully suppressed as being inappropriate to the circumstances.
"That's good," he said, "because unless I want to stop eating, I don't have enough money for a ticket out of here— at least not at the prices I've been quoted."
"I didn't know you were that close to the end of your cash."
"One bill short of the price of a fare is short enough."
"Now look, didn't you say your father came here thinking he could make a lot of money fast?"
"That's right, but the 'fast' part turned out to be wrong. Maybe the 'lot' part was wrong too."
"Arin Braeth was no fool, not according to the stories I've heard. What do you think?"
"I think he found whatever he was looking for. The longest he stayed on any other world before he got here was twenty days. He was on Kohltri Station for nine days, then was down here on the surface for over half a year before he disappeared."
"Okay, what I'm saying is this. I'm willing to stake you against ten percent of your share of whatever your father found."
"In spite of what I said, he may not have found anything. To have gone so far for so long with the last of the money and to come up with nothing in the end would make a lot of people ashamed to come back."
"Was your father like that?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Well, then?"
"He may be dead."
"So? Look, I never knew your father, but I've known people like him. Hell, I'm like him in my own way. Nowhere near his caliber, of course. But from what you told me, and what I've heard elsewhere, if he was after treasure, it would be a big one.
"Gestae are aware of their reputations As long as your father stayed at home, he didn't have to worry about that. He'd capped his career with a daring and romantic rescue. Follows then retirement to glorious obscurity. A fitting way out, something that I'd like to do someday.
"So though I don't know your father, I know the type, being one myself. I'd be willing to bet that whatever it was he was after, it could be told about as a suitable sequel to the rest of his life, something really big, like an Aradka artifact or a lode of dialithite or the secret of the Taarshome or something like that. Don't you agree?"
"That's fantastic, like looking for a mountain of gold."
"Three Aradka artifacts have been found; the Book, the Scepter, and the Eye. Several thousand dialithite crystals are in museums. And I know for a fact, because I was in on the excavation, that the Taarshome were finally proved to have really existed. That was just three years ago."
"Yes, I know, but—"
"Okay, so maybe it was only a good blackmail prospect he was after. You want to take up my offer or not?"
"Absolutely. I just don't want you to throw your money away on a harebrained scheme."
"You're not harebrained. If there's no money, tough on all of us. I've made millions. Most of it's gone. It won't hurt me to lose a few hundred or a few thousand more. I'll make it all back somewhere else."
"Darcy, I'm sorry, I was thinking about the money, not you. You've been more than generous so far, and I'm grateful. I'm willing to accept your generosity for as long as you care to give it." He reached out and squeezed her shoulder.
"Well, hey, come on, let's not get mushy. I'm just offering a loan, making an investment."
"Okay. I accept."
"Good. Now let's go out for lunch. I want to see how well you pass."
They left his rooms and went back on the streets. They moved among the people as if they belonged there. Nobody gave Rikard a second glance, but they kept away from the parts of the city where Rikard had been before.
"If somebody who knows you sees you," Darcy explained, "they'll want to find out which is the real you, and that could mean trouble."
They found a little restaurant where Rikard wouldn't meet anybody he knew, nor any of Kohltri's more dangerous citizens.
"Not everybody here is a murderer," Darcy said as they sat at a booth.
"I'd begun to figure they were." A waiter came over and took their order.
"No," Darcy said. "Many people become killers once they get here. It's a matter of s
urvival. But killing someone on Kohltri isn't always murder, like it is out in the rest of the Federation. It takes a special kind of mind to kill someone in cold blood."
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
"I have. In self-defense. After the pyramid affair on Aakan, there were just four of us, and two weren't in any condition to do anything but go along for the ride. We had the ship and got off just ahead of the local patrol.
"And then Oremf decided he was lonely and tried to rape me. It was very easy to kill him, though it took me a long time to get over it emotionally. That was when I learned to fly a lighter. Oremf was our pilot, and with him dead and Lars and Sfrenbow too hurt to help, I had to figure it out by myself or we would have just zipped on forever. It took my mind off what I'd just done, and what had almost been done to me. I remember the whole business very clearly; it was the real turning point in my life."
They stopped talking while the waiter brought their meal.
"Have you ever killed anyone?" Darcy asked when the waiter left.
"No, I never have. I find the idea appalling. But if I'm going to stay here, I guess I might have to."
"Most worlds in the Federation are a lot rougher than Pelgrane."
"So I've learned in the last two years. But how many worlds like Kohltri are there?"
"In the Federation, only this one. I've heard of other refuges elsewhere, and some of them are supposed to be even meaner than Kohltri. But I've never been to any of them, and I don't expect to go. Kohltri is enough for me, and I only come here when I have to. I'd much rather be on worlds like Saber, Erls Palace, Krishna, places where something besides survival is the main goal of life."
"Have you ever been to Terra?"
"Twice. It's a pretty civilized place. One of the best universities in the Federation is there."
"I'd like to go someday, just to see what it's like."
"It's an archaeologist's paradise, just like any of the species home worlds are."
"Is that why you went?" .
"Of course. And to sell artifacts. That's mostly how I make my money. But time enough for my life later. Right now we've got your education to worry about. You're going to have to learn how to use that gun."