Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(50)

“How did they die?”

“Why does it matter, they’re dead. Now I need to know how. If I know that, I am sure we can fix it or somehow explain it to the Navy. But do you really think they’re going to want to drop off tens of thousands of their troops into an area that mysteriously knocks its citizens into a coma?”

“Garm.”

“Yes, Hank,” she seemed to expect another stonewall.

“Will it help you to hear that I have it under control?”

“How is this under control? How can I possibly think you have it under control? Is it only going to be half the city next time?”

I wasn’t making any progress this way.

“Who was it who fought the Dredel Led?” I said. “For free.”

Garm was incredulous.

“You want money?” She rummaged in her pants. “You mercenary bastard, is that what this is about?”

“No. I was just saying…you have to take my word for it, Garm.”

“I don’t have to take anything. I have to protect this station, not just you.”

I thought for a moment.

“You have to take my word for it,” I said, leaving a heavy pause. “Or it will happen again.”

It was kind of true. Though kind of a lie. If Garm kept at it, she’d probably haul me down to jail and treat me pretty damn bad. I could somewhat realistically guess that Jyen would respond to that by using her brother. Who would do…mutant stuff. Up to, including, exceeding, what he’d done already.

But the kind-of-truthness registered on my face and Garm knew her hands were tied.

“You got this covered? You’re sure?”

“Yes,” I said uneasily.

I think Garm’s mind wasn’t ready to handle the lie part of my response, so she put her gun down. We stood there quietly a while.

“I won’t allow it to happen again,” I said a little more resolutely.

Now that I knew people had died, if he got out of hand, I would kill Jyonal. Though technically, if he got out of hand, he’d probably be killing me.

“How am I going to explain this?” Garm said.

“Electrical,” I said, continuing my half-truth streak.

Garm probably thought I was covering for some technical folks who’d accidentally run current through the sidewalks or something. That was a story she could sell, as no one would doubt Belvaille incompetence.

“Hey,” I said, “there are some bosses who want to carry out a hit. It seems Ddewn was setting up some back channel—”

“Argh!” Garm screamed in frustration. “I have to locate and dismantle fifty years’ worth of contraband across an entire city that specializes in contraband. You handle it. Unless,” she said, cooling rapidly, “you handling it would jeopardize you handling the other thing.”

“No,” I said with conviction. “I’ll get it done.”

Garm walked to my bedroom door to leave. I saw her hand was still tight on her pistol.

“If we get out of this alive, and I’m not in prison or executed, I’ll make sure you get whatever pay you want, Hank.”

“I don’t really need anything.”

She looked like she wanted to shoot me again, but only if it did damage. So instead she just walked out of my apartment.



I made a call to one of Ddewn’s clubs the next day. It was more a restaurant, but it had a little spot for sports gambling. I think mostly so he could call it a casino, which carried more prestige than a club and certainly more than a restaurant.

The manager told me he would tele for his boss and I should take a seat. Ddewn hired some of the roughest people on Belvaille. It bred loyalty and made him a bad guy to fight.

I figured I was just going to ask it straight. There was no point in me trying to figure out his labyrinth of schemes. We were at a point on the station where that stuff didn’t matter.

Business was good in the restaurant. Lots of people. Kind of a middle-of-the-line clientele. I think they were all slumming it or the prices were low because the casino was shabby even by Belvaille standards, with third-hand games and mismatched furniture.

The carpet had huge swaths that were different shades of the same color. The walls had paintings with rings around them from years of collected dust blown from the vents. There was even a bent banister. Really, how much effort does it take to straighten a railing?

The manager came back and told me Ddewn wasn’t around but I could wait. He wasn’t being very friendly.

I waited. The bartender wasn’t friendly either. I was sitting practically right on his lap and he just stood there washing glasses like I wasn’t there. I actually had to reach for a drink for him to finally take notice.