“Drinking purple stuff.”
“Damn it, you know what I mean!” growled McAnany. “I could have been a bartender back in Klamath Falls. I mean, hell, we had enough goddamned water there. No, I had to come to the Planet of Opportunity to make my millions.” He spat on the bare wooden floor. “Opportunity, my ass!”
“So go home,” said Scorpio.
“And do what? I’m sixty-three years old, and I’ve been bartending here for more than thirty years. I’m too old to retrain.”
“So go home and tend bar there.”
“To tell the truth, I’m afraid to,” admitted McAnany. “Thirty years is a long time. Who the hell knows what it’s like there now?”
Scorpio made no reply, and McAnany glared at him. “Anyone ever tell you that sympathy’s not your long and strong suit?”
“From time to time.”
“Didn’t have any effect on you then, either, I’ll bet.”
Scorpio looked over McAnany’s shoulder at the door, which was just opening. A couple walked in, drenched despite all their protections against the weather.
“Hell of a day!” muttered the burly man, removing his outer garments and tossing them carelessly on the end of the bar, revealing a pockmarked, mustached face with a thick head of wavy gray hair. He then helped the woman out of her protective gear, and Scorpio saw that she was a curvaceous, expensively clad woman—or at least female—with light blue skin and matching hair.
“Pretty much the same as all the other days around here,” replied McAnany.
“That’s a depressing thought,” said the woman. “What have you got to drink?”
“You name it, and I’ve either got it or I’ll fake it.”
The woman looked at Scorpio. “I’ll have what that man is drinking.”
“Me, too,” said the man. He turned to the bartender. “I’m supposed to meet someone here.”
“Must be him,” said McAnany, gesturing to Scorpio. “Ain’t no one else been here all day.”
The man approached Scorpio. “Are you the one they call The Scorpion?”
“At your service,” replied Scorpio. “You must be Rand Quintaro.”
Quintaro nodded and extended his hand, then sat down and gestured the woman to sit next to him, which she did. “You could have chosen a more convenient place,” he said.
“This is my office when I’m on Venus,” replied Scorpio.
“I understand you have a partner,” continued Quintaro. “Where is he?”
“He’ll be along.”
“We’ll wait.”
“That’s up to you,” said Scorpio. “Could be a couple of days.”
“He’s on a job?” asked Quintaro.
“It’s confidential. I can’t discuss it.”
The man nodded his head knowingly. McAnany emitted a sarcastic snort, then brought the blue-skinned woman her drink.
“It’s strong!” she breathed after taking a sip.
“I can dilute it,” offered McAnany.
“No,” she said, never taking her eyes off Scorpio. “I like strong.”
“You got a name, lady?”
“It’s Sapphire,” she replied.
“Sapphire what?” asked McAnany.
“Just Sapphire.”
“Pleased to meet you, Just Sapphire,” said Scorpio. He turned back to Quintaro. “You sure you don’t want to talk a little business now?”
Quintaro sighed, and his mustache quivered. “All right. There’s no sense wasting any more time. It took me two months just to decide you and your partner were the men for the job.”
“He’s not exactly a man,” noted Scorpio.
“Anyway, you come highly recommended.”
“I’d ask by who, but you’d probably tell me, and I’d have to lecture you about the company you keep,” said Scorpio with just the trace of a smile.
McAnany looked at a small screen that was hidden behind the bar. “He’s coming!” he announced.
“Your partner?” asked Quintaro.
Scorpio nodded. “I guess he accomplished his mission faster than anticipated.”
Shut up, said a familiar voice inside his head.
A moment later the door opened, and a strange-looking creature entered. He was a dark blue quadruped, perhaps the size of a mastiff. He had four nostrils, two in front, one on each cheek, eyes that seemed to glow even though they were totally shielded from the dim lights, and a tail that ended in such a sharp point that it could very well be used as a weapon. He was covered by a dull curly down, and when he opened his mouth he displayed a double row of coal-black fangs.
“This is Merlin,” announced Scorpio. “He doesn’t talk, but he understands everything you say.”
Quintaro studied Merlin for a moment. “I’ve never seen anything like him,” he said. “What world is he from?”
“This one.”
“Really?”
“Why would I lie to you?” said Scorpio. “Not every planet produces just one sentient race.”
Quintaro stared at Merlin for another moment, then shrugged and turned back to Scorpio. “He won’t be offended if I speak directly to you? I’d feel … awkward … speaking to him.”
I just may bite his foot off.
Practice a little anger management, thought Scorpio. I got the repair estimate on the ship while you were off hunting for ladyfriends, and we need a quick seventy-three thousand mojuri or we’re stuck on this ball of dirt—well, ball of jungle and water.
Seventy-three thousand mojuri? That’s outrageous!
Probably, agreed Scorpio. How much is that in real money?
Twenty thousand credits.
That’s why you’re not biting his foot off.
Yet.
Scorpio turned to Quintaro. “All right—we’re all ears. What exactly are you here about?”
“I want to hire your services,” said Quintaro.
“Which particular services?”
“Whatever’s required. I’ll be honest. I expect to run into some danger in the pursuit of my goal, and I’m told you’re the deadliest man on Venus, now that Cemetery Smith has moved to Titan.”
“Suppose you tell me what goal you’re in pursuit of?” said Scorpio.
Quintaro leaned forward. “Have you ever heard of the Godstone of Venus?”
Scorpio shook his head. “What is it—some kind of gem, or a carving, or what?”
“I don’t know,” answered Quintaro.
Scorpio frowned. “Then what do you want it for?”
“It’s supposed to imbue its possessor with certain mystical powers.”
“You’ve been reading too many bad adventure stories, Mr. Quintaro,” said Scorpio.
“It exists!” insisted Quintaro. “Even if it’s just a stone with no mystical powers, it’s worth a king’s ransom. Men and Venusians have been searching for it for eons.” Suddenly a sly smile crossed his face. “But I’ve got something they didn’t have.”
“Let me guess,” said Scorpio in bored tones. “An ancient treasure map?”
“Even better,” said Quintaro, pointing at Sapphire. “I’ve got her!”
Scorpio turned to look at Sapphire, who hadn’t said a word since commenting on her drink. “What do you think you know?” he asked.
“It was my race that created the Godstone,” she said, “and my race that hid it.”
“What makes you think you can find it no matter who created and hid it?” demanded Scorpio.
“My race is not like yours,” she said. “We are born with a racial memory, back to the very first member of our species that crawled up out of the sea, breathed air, and developed limbs.”
“If every member of your race knows where it is, what makes you think one of them hasn’t found it already?”
“I would know if they had,” said Sapphire.
“Anyway,” said Quintaro, “it’s not necessary that you believe in the stone. Just believe in the money.” He paused. “You just have to lead us to where she knows it is,
and I’ll offer you thirty thousand credits for the job, in any currency that’s accepted in the system—half now and half when we find it … or when we reach the location and it’s not there.”
“Thirty thousand buys us for one month maximum,” replied Scorpio.
“It’s a deal.”
We don’t want any part of this, said Merlin wordlessly.
Why not?
He doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s after. She put him up to this, and that description, vague as it was, of a godstone was planted in his mind by her. I was born on Venus, and I’ve never heard of it. As for him, he plans to kill us and take back the down payment when we reach our destination.
Then read her mind and see if the damned thing really exists.
I can’t.
Scorpio frowned. You never came across a sentient being of any race where you couldn’t read their minds, or at least their emotions.
This one’s different came Merlin’s answer. She looks human, but she’s not—not human, and not a mutation as far as I can tell.
Is she Venusian?
I don’t know.
What do you know about her?
Nothing—and that scares me.
I’ve never seen you afraid of anything before. Now you’re scaring me.
“Well, Scorpion?” said Quintaro.
We need the money, thought Scorpio. And we’ll be on our guard.
What the hell—the breeding season’s ending.
I take that as an agreement.
Yeah, thought Merlin. This really isn’t much of a world once the females are out of heat.
I’m sure they share that conviction.
“All right, Mr. Quintaro,” said Scorpio. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“I assume you paused because you were consulting with your partner?”
Assuage his fears, thought Merlin.
“Yeah.” Scorpio blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head. “Whenever he’s reading my mind,” he lied, “I feel a kind of buzzing inside my head and I go blank for a moment.”
Quintaro, convinced that his plans and motives remained unknown, relaxed noticeably.
“We’ll start in the morning,” he announced. “I’ve got the transportation we’ll need.”
“Where are you staying?” asked Scorpio.
“We thought we’d spend the night here.”
Scorpio turned to McAnany. “Got a spare room?”
“Got five of ’em,” answered the bartender.
“Well, now you have four,” said Scorpio. He turned back to Quintaro. “Where’s your vehicle?”
“Down the trail a bit,” he answered, gesturing toward the door.
“It had better be a VZ Model 3 or 4,” said Scorpio. “Anything else will sink right into this mud if it’s carrying the four of us plus our gear.”
“It’s a VZ4,” confirmed Quintaro.
“Okay,” said Scorpio. “All that’s left is your down payment.”
Quintaro reached into a pocket, pulled out a wad of thousand-credit notes, peeled off fifteen of them, and pushed them across the table to Scorpio.
Scorpio pocketed the money and turned to Sapphire. “You don’t say much, do you?”
“Not much,” she agreed.
“How did you two meet?”
“It was the strangest damned thing,” said Quintaro. “I was actually getting set to take my leave of this world—I hear they’ve discovered a couple of truly phenomenal diamond pipes on Ganymede, and since I’m a jeweler by trade, I was thinking of going there—”
He’s lying. He’s a gambler, and he’s got a criminal record as long as your arm.
“—when I ran into this lovely lady as I was checking out of my hotel by the Amber City spaceport. We got to talking, found we had a lot in common, and eventually she mentioned the godstone. Well, hell, everyone on Venus has heard about it …”
“Not me,” said Scorpio.
Not him, either—until she planted his interest in his head.
“Well, you’re a transient,” said Quintaro. “People talk about you all over the system. I’ve heard about your exploits on Mars and half a dozen moons. They say you can’t go back to Earth, but I figure that’s either just romantic bullshit or else at least you had a good reason for whatever you did.”
“You don’t have to sell, Mr. Quintaro,” said Scorpio. “I’ve already accepted your offer.”
“Anyway, it’s perfectly understandable that someone who spends so little time here—or anywhere—wouldn’t know about the godstone.”
“Interesting name: godstone,” said Scorpio.
“I find it very evocative. Even if it was worthless, I’d spend this much money just to say I was the guy who found it.”
“Well, I hope we can make you feel you’ve gotten your money’s worth,” said Scorpio. “We’ll be leaving at daybreak, which comes pretty early around here. You might want to grab some sleep.”
“Good idea,” said Quintaro. He got to his feet. “Come, my dear.”
Sapphire stood up with an alien grace, linked her arm in his, and walked to the door.
“Where is our room?” Quintaro asked McAnany.
“Down the corridor, last room on the right,” answered the bartender. “Door’s unlocked. You’re just staying one night. I’ll lock it from here once you’re inside the room, and just open it tomorrow when you’re leaving.”
“Thanks,” said Quintaro. He handed a bill to McAnany. “This ought to cover it.”
“That’ll buy you three rooms,” answered McAnany, “each with a woman in it.” Suddenly he looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Miss Sapphire, ma’am … Just a figure of speech.”
She’d shown no annoyance when he uttered the remark, and she showed no reaction when he apologized. A moment later the couple walked out of the bar and down the corridor, and though they were still arm in arm Scorpio got the feeling that she was leading him. He got up and placed his empty glass on the bar.
“You ever heard of this godstone?” he asked.
McAnany shook his head. “Nope. He makes it sound like you and me are the only ones who haven’t.”
“Yeah,” said Scorpio. “Well, don’t believe everything you hear.” He looked over at Merlin. “You all through making a new generation? We’ve got work to do if we’re heading out in the morning.”
My race has sexual seasons, just like many mammals on your home world. Live with it. At least I’m not chasing a new female on every world we visit like some partners I could mention.
Only because it wouldn’t do you the least bit of good, thought Scorpio. Now, what kind of equipment are we going to need for this foolishness?
It’s only foolish if you consider Quintaro. He thinks he’s looking for a valuable gem, and he intends to kill us when he finds it.
It’s probably just what he hopes it is—something worth a few million on the black market—or even the open market if the government doesn’t claim it as a planetary treasure.
Don’t think about it or him. She is the wild card.
She’s one of the better-looking cards in the deck.
That’s all you can say—or think—after what I’ve told you?
What do you want me to say?
Idiot.
Scorpio reached behind the bar, grabbed a bottle, and filled his glass.
“You look annoyed,” noted McAnany.
“There are two blue creatures in this place,” answered Scorpio. “Quintaro went off with the gorgeous one, and I’m stuck with the ugly one who doesn’t trust anyone, including his partner.”
“If he’s worried about you running off with the money that guy gave you, I can stick it in the safe until you get back,” offered McAnany.
“Bad trade,” muttered Scorpio.
“Trade? What trade?”
“You get fifteen thousand credits, and I get a deserted, beat-up tavern when I get back.”
“You think I’d do that to you?” said McAnany in hurt tones.
; “Even Merlin thinks so, and he hates to agree with me.” Scorpio picked up his bottle and began walking to the door. “Unlock my room for me. I got a feeling this is the last night I’m going to be sleeping in a bed for a month.”
Scorpio dragged himself out of bed at sunrise, staggered to the bathroom, and rinsed his face off. He wasn’t thrilled with the smell or taste of Venus’s water, but he remembered all the worlds where water was almost impossible to come by. He considered shaving, decided not to, stuck a trio of fresh outfits into a cloth bag, slung it over his shoulder, strapped on a holster and a modified laser pistol, donned his boots, and walked out into the corridor, almost tripping over Merlin.
Good morning, said the Venusian silently.
I think what I hate most about you is that you never have to sleep, Scorpio replied grumpily.
Right. It’s only saved your life three or four times.
Okay, I’ll find something else to hate about you. Where are our clients—up or still snoring?
They were eating what passes for breakfast in the bar about an hour ago. They’re outside now.
“Why?” said Scorpio aloud. “It’s been pouring for the past month. I can’t imagine it stopped in the last six hours.”
They’ve got all kinds of protective gear. Also, I think they’re probably sitting in the vehicle.
“A car or a boat?”
A little of each, I think.
“And there’s room for all four of us and our gear?” said Scorpio. “This guy’s not a piker.”
Whatever that is.
“Okay, well, we might as well get this show on the road,” said Scorpio, walking down the crushed-rock path with Merlin falling into step behind him. He descended until the ground leveled out, and came to the Venusian version of a safari car, an amphibious vehicle that could negotiate oceans, rivers, streams, muddy jungles, just about every kind of unfriendly landscape the planet could provide.
Scorpio briefly looked up from force of habit, but there was no sun to be seen, nor had there been in many millennia, just incredibly thick cloud cover. He then paused to wipe the rain from his face.
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