“Okay, Adventurers,” the red-head encouraged Kati and Rakil, after she had filled the four glasses. “Let’s hear it. How did Jock get stunned? Did you guys manage to connect with Kati’s fair-haired friend? And why does Kati have a look in her eyes that almost scares me?”
Kati swallowed at the last question. Rakil smiled at her kindly.
“I can start the tale if you’d rather,” he said. “You can fill in whenever necessary.”
*****
“Ye gods,” Joaley whispered when Rakil and Kati had finished. “You’re saying that the creep Berd Warrion pulled out a lace crystal knife and threatened Kati with it! Is the man completely insane?”
“I figured that he was,” Rakil said. “And I nearly lost the stupid fight I was having with that idiot Morone Malaudin when I saw Kati shoot at his stunner hand instead of aiming for his chest and taking him out. That seemed pretty insane, too. I couldn’t figure out what she was up to.”
“I couldn’t figure out what I was up to,” Kati sighed. “Like I said, when he started for me with that knife, I got scared enough to let The Monk take control just as he had suggested I should if Berd threatened me. I should have realized that he wanted to kill the man, but I guess he had lulled me into complacency by behaving well for a long time. By the time I saw my mistake the fight was on and I couldn’t wrestle control away from the Granda without risking my life, so I had to go along with what he was doing.”
“He’s damn good, I’ll grant you that,” Rakil said. “I’d just managed to punch Malaudin’s lights out when I saw Kati wrestle the knife from Berd and turn it against him. And then it was freak-out time all over again.”
“The Monk did some serious damage to Berd before I succeeded in wresting control back,” Kati said with a shudder. “There was a moment when I thought for sure I’d lost my hope of ever joining the Federation Peace Officers. But I sent the Granda to search out the Forest Spirit while I held Berd’s heart and aorta together, sort of in abeyance; when the Spirit got there, it augmented my energies and we were able to heal the damage. So I ended up not being a murderer, after all.”
She gulped down a swallow of the wine. It was surprisingly smooth-tasting stuff; the merchant who had sold it to Joaley had not lied when he had said it was good. It was a relief to concentrate on the taste of the wine and forget the bile that had filled her mouth when she had realized how the Granda had—once again—played her for a fool.
“It would have been justifiable homicide,” The Monk subvocalized petulantly.
“Get the hell into your hiding place,” Kati snapped back. “It’s a damn pity that I can’t justifiably homicide you!”
“So this Forest—whatever—is still on our side and with us,” Joaley mused. “A useful ally to have, that’s for sure. But I guess you and Jock aren’t going trolling for a fun occasion with the Klensers at tonight’s races.”
“No, I very much doubt that.” Kati threw a glance at Jock, still lying motionless on the bed. “That’ll have to wait for the next runnerbeast races.”
“The races are probably over, tonight,” Lank said. “And tomorrow night we put on a show.”
“Yeah, we’ll need to earn money,” Rakil said. “Jock never did get back what he paid for services not rendered.”
Suddenly Kati’s mood lifted, and she grinned at the Borhquan.
“I wonder if anyone has let those louts out from that bathroom yet,” she said. “I would guess that the Lady Livery stays away from that room for as long as she can. There are other rooms that she can take customers to, without so much as a peek into that one.”
“That’s right.” Rakil laughed. “The uniformed woman—your Lady Livery—would likely assume that her employer and his friend would be doing damage to you and me while Jock was forced to watch, and I very much doubt that she would consider interrupting something like that. It wouldn’t occur to her that two off-worlders, one of them a woman, and one Vultairian could defeat two Exalted men plus two goons. And with the soundproofing in that room, and the spy-eyes gone, the four of them could bang and bang at the bathroom floor and walls without anyone outside being the wiser.”
“Heck, sounds like the money Jock paid was coin well spent,” said Joaley. “It’s nice to hear about abusers who get the tables turned on them.”
*****
The next evening’s performance in Joli’s Bar and Terrace was a great success. It was clear right from the start that word about the entertainers had preceded their arrival. The Terrace, which had been turned into a hall through the removal of tables, and the addition of more chairs, was full of laughing people when the troupe took to the stage. The adjacent street thronged with those who had not found room inside. Joli’s bartender was doing a good imitation of a perpetual motion machine, trying to keep the patrons who wanted to drink, supplied with beer, and wine. When Kati started the show by launching into the chorus of “The Mudball Song”, she was not at all surprised when a good portion of the audience immediately joined in the singing. Her group was a known quantity by now; the meandering travel from Port City, via Ithcar, had done its intended magic.
Several times during the evening Kati scanned the crowd for Berd Warrion and Morone Malaudin. She was vaguely worried that those two might take the opportunity to cause trouble for her, Rakil, and Jock, but nothing untoward occurred, even though she noticed a number of the Exalted among the audience members. They, apparently, were at Joli’s for the same reason that the Ordinary Citizens were there: to enjoy a pleasant evening’s entertainment while downing a few drinks. And a pleasant evening it was; the Troupe had grown very good at giving the audience what they wanted. Rakil’s antics with the juggling balls were always a hit, and apparently the Vultairians had embraced sing-alongs. The Tarangay sea-shanties had the crowd participating even in a land-locked City.
At the end of the night, a generous amount of Vultairian money found its way into the dish that served as the collecting bowl. The entertainers were pleased to note that many of the people who had listened to them from the street passed coins into the bowl, too, via helpful folk on the Terrace. Once the crowd began to dissipate and the performers had bagged their instruments, Joaley picked up the money dish, intending to take it to the rooms at the Inn for counting. Before she could do more than grab the bowl, however, three men, one of them wearing a tunic in the colours and patterns of the Laggos Family, approached her.
“There’s a fifteen percent tax, payable now,” the Exalted said, “on the proceeds of your performance.”
“Fifteen percent?” Joaley snapped. “I understood the tax was ten percent!”
“Ten percent is for locals,” the Vultairian snapped back at her. “Four of you are aliens. That means you pay another five percent. Now.”
Joaley opened her mouth to protest but Kati caught her by a sleeve. She shook her head.
“I’ll help you count while Lank and Rakil give the Bar people a hand with the chairs,” she said.
Joaley sighed and jumped off the stage. She began to pile the coins on the stage floor in neat, equal rows, arranging them by size and worth. Kati kept count of the piles as Joaley worked, keeping track, with the granda’s help, of what fifteen percent of the coins amounted to. The Laggos Exalted loomed over them, also keeping track of the count and the percentage even as Kati did, while his two goons stood by, looking formidable.
*****
After the Laggos tax-collectors had left, and the Terrace had been returned to its restaurant status, the Troupe was finally ready to return to Nelli’s with their take in the money bag. Joli’s Manager was quite pleased with them; the Bar had made a tidy profit from the drinks that the audience members had consumed. It looked like they’d have a venue for their act for the rest of their stay.
“One less worry for us,” Kati said as they began their walk to their lodgings.
“We did all right, even with the Laggos Family creaming off fifteen percent,” Joaley conceded. “The greedy bastards.”
&nbs
p; “Maybe they’re greedy,” Kati conceded. “Or maybe they actually provide necessary services with the tax money. I don’t really care. I just want to get the things that we need to do, done.”
“Actually, as the Oligarchs go,” said Jock, “the Laggos clan isn’t the worst by any means. They’ve done an okay job of keeping the City running, and they’re smart enough to keep the thievery—their own and that of others—down to reasonable amounts. Of course, that’s just good tactics; it keeps money flowing to them even as the businesses prosper.”
“So they’ve got enough sense not to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs,” Kati muttered. “I guess on this world that is something.”
“It’s what keeps some of the Families that don’t have the sense to not kill their geese, afloat,” Jock added with a grin. “Like the Malaudins; their brothel is their source of coin these days, and it’s viable because it’s here in the Capital City. Of course there’s Planetary Government corruption as a source of funds, too, but it’s much less reliable than an actual business income. Corruption being corruption, there is plenty of favouritism involved, so if the Senate Chairperson happens to not approve of you, any money you might have hoped to gain that way can disappear in an instant.”
“I suppose the Carmaks don’t get to dip into that pool,” Joaley commented.
“It is to laugh,” Jock replied, and did. “Fortunately we of Ithcar don’t need such funds. Ithcar is the richest, best-run province on this continent. We Carmaks do all right, although we’re careful not to skim too much of the cream for ourselves. And the other places that we’re allied with, on the other continents are the same; the Families who run them adhere to the ancient tradition of giving the Ordinary Citizens control over their work and life environments. Doing so encourages individual efforts as well as cooperative enterprises among the regular folk.”
“Hey that sounds almost like Mikal’s speeches about cooperation,” Kati laughed. “So what happened to this world if your ancients believed in positive principles?”
“Stagnation of the political system, I think,” Jock answered. “The Rule of the Four Hundred became entrenched. Some Oligarch had the bright idea of denying everyone except the members of the Ruling Families access to the translation nodes—I think the original rationale for it was that after the Node War there weren’t enough of them to go around. Eventually it was claimed that the difference between the Ordinary Citizens and the Exalted was genetic. I think that most regular folks forgot that nodes existed, and they certainly were unaware that according to Federation Regulations they had a right to them. So, what you’re seeing now took a long time to become established, and a longer time to grow as corrupt as it presently is.”
*****
The following evening Kati and Jock took some of the Troupe’s earnings and put on gay faces to attend the runnerbeast races. The other three group members passed on the opportunity.
“We can always catch the vids at Joli’s,” Joaley said tartly, and rather loudly, as they left the open-air stall where they had bought supper. “We’ll make sure to take it easy with the betting, since you two seem determined to throw away money at the track.”
“Oh, come on, Joaley,” Kati protested brightly, her voice just as audible. “We’re planning to do a little winning, aren’t we, Jock? Just watch; we’ll come back with more money than we left with.”
Some young woman in the crowd patronizing the stall giggled, and Jock preened visibly.
“We’ll be right on the spot; I’ll be able to judge the runnerbeast flesh, and yes, we’ll win ourselves some cash,” he said.
“Well, I hear you people are playing at Joli’s again tomorrow night,” an older man said to Joaley as he passed her. “You’ll be able to make up their losses, lass, never fear. Let them have their fun, and learn their lesson.”
“You’re probably right,” the red-head sighed to him. “It’s just annoying to always be the one responsible person in the pack.”
“Well, if you want to talk to Papa about your troubles, I’ll be at Joli’s when the races start,” the man responded with a slightly lascivious grin. “Not to bet much; I’m careful with my coin. But I like the company at Joli’s, on racing nights, and the other nights, too.”
“Watch yourself, Joaley, if you accept his invitation,” Kati said, once they were out of the man’s earshot.
“I think I might accept it,” Joaley replied, thoughtfully. “He strikes me as a gossip. Maybe I’ll be able to draw out some information. And I’ll have Rakil and Lank with me doing guard duty, so don’t worry about my chastity, or anything, Mama Kati.”
“Hey, what’s with the two of you women?” Lank snorted. “The big City turning you into a couple of felines? Wait, maybe I can write a song about that!”
There was laughter at that as they parted: Jock and Kati to begin hoofing to the Race Track, and Lank, Joaley and Rakil to return to Nelli’s, since their walk to Joli’s was the much shorter one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Runnerbeast Track was actually a large city park with the several kilometres long racing path wending about it in twists and turns, making its way over a few hills, and crossing and re-crossing a stream. The animals had to scale rocks and muck their way across small bogs between the starting point in front of the spectator stands, and the end in the same place, but coming in from the opposite direction. Flits equipped with vid recorders followed the beasts as they coursed along the track, feeding the huge screens above the stands as well the screens in all the gambling bars in the City. The runnerbeasts ran riderless; they were carefully trained animals, Jock explained to Kati, taught from a young age to follow paths from the start to the end, and bred for the desire to lead any pack that they might be in.
The two Troupe members arrived early enough to participate in a ritual which Jock termed “checking out the runners”. This amounted to walking through the large barns that housed the evening’s contestants, all of them in separate stalls, the stalls arranged so that the runnerbeasts were facing the walkers who came to look them over.
“So how do you tell a potential winner from the rest?” Kati asked Jock as they stopped to stare at the animal in the first stall.
“I was hoping that you, with all your interesting talents, could tell me that,” Jock replied with an enigmatic grin.
A couple of the Exalted were looking at this particular animal as well. The man of the pair looked at Jock and Kati when he heard them speak, and lifted his eyebrows for a second. The woman looked at Kati with what could only be termed a sneer, and pulled her companion away and towards the next stall.
“An off-world nothing,” Kati, with node-enhanced hearing, heard her mutter to the man. “One of those silly entertainers that Jock Carmaks seems to have taken up with. Her talents are no doubt limited to those useful in the bedroom.”
Kati and Jock exchanged amused winks before she began to examine the animal in front of her in earnest. It was a sleek creature, not shaggy and sturdy, the way the cart-pulling runnerbeasts were, although it was about the same size. Its legs were longer in proportion to the rest of the body, she noted. Obviously it was a well-cared-for creature, healthy and pampered. Even its paws with their retractable claws had been recently washed and brushed.
“Well, old rascal, Monk,” Kati subvocalized. “I guess it’s time to let by-gones be by-gones no matter that you can be a screw-up. So, with all the miserable lives you’ve spent among the less reputable of the galaxy, you do have some knowledge about betting on runnerbeasts, right? Is this animal a good prospect?”
“I have won and lost a few coins gambling on runnerbeasts,” the Granda responded, “just not on this world. And the runnerbeasts here on Vultaire are smaller than anywhere else. On other worlds the racers have riders, and I’m not quite certain how going riderless changes things. This one’s a nice-looking animal, certainly nothing wrong with it, but I’d expect that all the others will fit that category, too.”
“Well, my inner
information source isn’t offering anything helpful,” Kati said to Jock in a low voice. “It’s a promising-looking animal, he says, but then all the others likely are as well.”
“Yes, most of them are,” Jock agreed. “And the ones which aren’t, are easy enough to pick out, and eliminate from consideration. Maybe we’ll just have to flip a coin at each stall.”
“Or pick our favourites by their names, or some other not too meaningful a feature.”
Kati turned towards a boy who was proffering programs for sale, and offered a coin of the required denomination to him. The boy took it avidly, and passed over to her a leaflet explaining the races and listing the contestants of each of the seven races. He eyed Kati curiously as he sold her the program, and she rewarded him with a quick grin which explained nothing, but succeeded in drawing forth an answering smile.
“A good idea,” Jock murmured, once the lad had turned away. “Most of the Exalted don’t bother with programs; with their node-enhanced memories they figure that they can keep on top of necessary information without a written record. However, I’ve noticed that the blackboards beside the stalls don’t necessarily contain all the useful information. These printed programs are more accurate; the beasts’ owners can’t change the data at a moment’s whim, which is something that some of them have been known to do.”
They continued the walk through the barn, checking the animals in the stalls against the lists in the program, and noting any discrepancies between the program and on the boards by the stalls. They made mental notes of the animals which struck one or the other of them—or the Granda—as a good possibility for a wager. All the time, Jock was also keeping track of the Exalted who were doing the walk-through, looking for those who he knew to be involved in what was euphemistically termed “enjoying the Klensers”. When Jock had first mentioned this term to Kati, her first reaction had been to ask whether anyone cared whether or not the Klensers enjoyed it, and Jock had snorted at her:
On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted Page 56