The Widowmaker: Volume 1 in the Widowmaker Trilogy by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online Page B

staring at Nighthawk. “Are you here to kill him?"
    "I never said that,” replied Nighthawk.
    "Then you're not?"
    "I didn't say that , either."
    "Want a piece of advice?” said Gold Eyes.
    "How much are you asking for it?"
    "It's gratis."
    "Then keep it,” said Nighthawk. “It's probably worth about what you're charging for it."
    Gold Eyes chuckled. “I like you, kid. Take my advice and get the hell out while the getting's good. He already knows you're here."
    "Where is he?"
    "Who knows?” said Gold Eyes. “But this is his world. Nothing goes on here that he doesn't know about.” He picked up the empties and headed back to the bar.
    "What happened to your money?” asked Nighthawk, turning to Malloy. “When you said the Marquis was after you, I figured you'd swindled him somehow."
    "I did,” said Malloy unhappily.
    "How?"
    "I had the most perfect set of cards you ever saw,” said Malloy. “They were beautiful. I mean, nobody could spot them. Even if you knew they were marked, you couldn't read them until I showed you how.” He paused. “I took the Marquis for 275,000 credits last night."
    "And he spotted them?"
    "No. I told you no one could spot them. Hell, if he had, I'd have been dead before morning."
    "What happened, then?"
    "Since I was planning to leave, I sold the deck to one of the locals for a couple of thousand credits.” Malloy smiled ruefully. “Wouldn't you know we'd have the first blizzard in a month? No ships could take off, so I came back here for a little warmth and companionship—and found out that the son of a bitch I'd sold the deck to had cashed in by fingering me to the Marquis! I hid out until morning, and then tried to make it to the spaceport."
    "So?"
    "So what?"
    "So where's the money?"
    "Taped behind one of the chemical toilets in the men's room in his casino,” answered Malloy.
    "All right,” said Nighthawk, slapping some money on the table. “Let's go get it."
    "I beg your pardon?"
    "Your money,” said Nighthawk. “I assume you want it?"
    Malloy blinked furiously, looking like a lizard suddenly exposed to the sun. “You don't propose to just walk into the Marquis’ casino, take the money, and walk right back out with it?” he demanded.
    "Oh, we might stop for a drink or two, just to make sure we're spotted."
    Malloy studied him for a long moment. “You're sure you're the Widowmaker?"
    Nighthawk didn't answer, but started putting on his spacesuit, and Malloy finally climbed into his coat and boots.
    "How far?” asked Nighthawk.
    "Halfway down the next block,” answered Malloy.
    "Can you make it?"
    "I have 275,000 credits waiting for me there,” said Malloy. “What do you think?"
    The door dilated for them as they passed through to the frigid street.
    "God, I hate this iceball!” said Malloy, already starting to shiver. Nighthawk, as before, refused to remove his faceplate, and so could not hear his companion. They walked rapidly to the casino and wasted no time entering it. Nighthawk left his spacesuit and helmet in an Anti-Thief Field just inside the airlock, and Malloy—who couldn't afford the protective device—simply hung his coat on a wall.
    If Gold Eyes’ tavern had been empty, the Marquis’ casino was overcrowded. The walls changed color to match the mood of the live music, and the place was brilliantly illuminated although no light source was visible. Built to comfortably accommodate perhaps one hundred and fifty Men, it currently held upwards of two hundred, plus another forty aliens. Floating three feet above the floor were tables for roulette, and baccarat, and ten variations of craps (with six-sided, eight-sided and twelve-sided dice), and even two tables of jabob , an alien game that had become incredibly popular all across the Inner Frontier. A sleek chrome bar, stocked with intoxicants from a hundred worlds, lined one wall, and hovering a few feet above it was a tiny stage that featured a sultry half-clad girl whose undulations passed for dancing.