Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(53)

“Hey, Moff,” I said.

“Yes, sir,” he answered immediately.

“You need to take care of Ddewn’s wife and daughter, okay? You know like, make ‘em comfortable and whatnot.”

“Sure. Yeah, absolutely. I will.” And he looked at all the men when he said it, as if it was a promise to them as well.

“Okay, then,” and I waved.

“Hank,” one of them said.

Uh, oh. I hope this doesn’t get complicated. On the way back I had the nagging concern that Moff was the second in command because he was the biggest toadie, not because he was worth a damn.

“What’s up?” I asked warily.

“Is the military really coming?”

“Yes, they are coming,” I said, and turned to leave.

“What do they want here?” another one piped.

“Ahh. Ask him,” I said, pointing to Moff. “And Moff, you need to…like, start talking to other bosses and stuff. And you’re not allowed at the Gentleman’s Club anymore. Go to the Athletic Club.”

“Alright,” he said weakly.

On the way to the train, my solution was starting to feel not as good as I’d originally thought. I mean I just picked a random guy to be one of the top crime bosses in the city. But what could I do, have everyone run a foot race and give it to the winner?

This stuff would shake itself out after the Navy was gone. And if they didn’t leave, then it wouldn’t matter.





CHAPTER 18


The next day I had over a hundred tele messages. I’m sure I had people waiting at my door as well, but I was wise enough not to go home.

There are some places you can still lay low on Belvaille even when you’re me. I just didn’t want to listen to Garm or hear about how the other bosses launched attacks or whatever nonsense was probably going on because of my bonehead move of offing Ddewn.

I was really down on myself at this point for how I had handled it. I had known what Ddewn was like, by reputation if nothing else, and then I had pushed him and made him act exactly like logic told me he would. And then I responded like I was some cheap hood trying to make a name for himself.

I went to visit the scientist Delovoa. It was about the least responsible thing I could do out of the giant list of responsibilities I currently had. But I wasn’t feeling particularly responsible. I mean, truth be told I should have been sitting in Jyen’s living room having tea or doing whatever I could to keep those two freaks entertained, or dealing with the certain fallout from Ddewn’s murder. But I’d take care of all that later.

Delovoa was a mutant, but I think he was only a class one. He could heat up surfaces about a half inch from his body. Not very hot and I think it took most of his concentration, so not a particularly good mutation, but that was typical.

He let me inside after the usual greetings and took me into his basement. He was one of the few people that had an area below surface level on Belvaille. It was chock-full of illegal hardware of every imaginable type.

“What can I do for you, Hank?” he asked jovially.

He was a man of middle height, slight build, was always dirty, and had three irregularly spaced eyes on his face that blinked independently. His lab was so full of chemical smells it was impossible to tell whether he had any body odor. But he was a mellow guy in personality and didn’t seem to have any crazy motives other than making crazy money and building crazy stuff.

As I stared at the rows and rows of weapons I had to wonder:

“What are you going to do with all this when the military gets here?”

“Technically, I’m a certified Colmarian Armorer because I supply the police here with weapons and gear. A lot cheaper than shipping it in.”

I picked up an odd-looking gun.

“Yeah, but this stuff can’t all be legal.”

Delovoa laughed.

“Nothing is legal. In all the empire. I was wondering the same thing you were, so I tried to get a list of what was banned and there was something like a half-million different sets of regulations. If they want to arrest me, I’m sure they can.”

“Laws. Now that will be an unusual concept to deal with,” I said.

“Yeah. Did you really kill Ddewn?”

“I guess,” I said, still looking over his merchandise.

“Well, I suppose he had it coming,” Delovoa said indifferently. “Hey, you thinking about selling your pistol?”

“It’s busted.” Delovoa seemed more upset than I was. All three of his eyes drooping.

“No. How?”

“Dredel Led.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll still buy it. Same price. It’s no good broken, right?”

“What are you going to do with it? It doesn’t even turn on anymore.”