Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(9)

Zadeck was in his office, looking twitchy, which didn’t seem good. He was a thin guy with long, slick hair. He dressed impeccably in tight black synth, a few silver chains draped across his chest. He was stylish in an androgynous way. I had only dealt with him a handful of times and never in person. Zadeck was the kind of guy who liked to work through his underlings, which is how I had unfortunately come to know Wallow.

“I want to thank you for taking care of all this, Hank.”

“It’s not taken care of,” I replied.

“What do you mean? They’ve already delivered most of the product.”

“But those shippers haven’t been paid. They’re holed up in the Marine Marina.”

“I don’t see what’s left,” Zadeck said dismissively.

“You still owe them money.”

“How’s that your affair?” he snapped.

“What is it with you all today? I’m trying to save everyone a bolt to the head and people keep throwing rocks at me.”

Zadeck looked stunned. One of the bouncers popped his head in.

“Any trouble, Hank?”

“You don’t work for him, you work for me!” Zadeck said, red-faced.

The bouncer left after he saw nothing was going on.

“Do you not have the money?”

“I have the money.” Zadeck was insulted.

“And you just want to…cut them out?”

“It’s going to be my last order from this organization. So I figured I might as well—”

“Okay, that’s not going to work. You need to pay them. At least some.”

“Why?”

“Because there are a dozen armed guys at the hotel with probably a dozen more still on their ship. And they came to Belvaille, so we can guess they know how to fight. And they know you owe them 1.3 million.”

“I’m not worried about a few men and their guns.” He waved off the idea as if he were sweeping it away with a broom. This was the problem with having a Wallow.

“They’re going to want their money. And they’re going to come here looking for it. A battle like that is going to cause a lot of damage, which will piss the dust out of Garm. And it’s going to bring unnecessary attention when a transport hauler vanishes.”

“Garm has an interest in the completion of this as well,” Zadeck said coolly.

“Yeah, but it’s not complete. Killing two dozen men won’t make it complete. Because they’re just going to send more and next time it’s going to be assassins.”

I’ve been in on double-crosses before. It’s part of the life. But I don’t like them. You don’t want to be the guy known for setting up betrayals. I made those sailors a promise and I wanted to deliver as best I could.

“So then you’re telling me I have to pay the full amount? What did I need you for, then?”

“Now you ask me! Pay them 80% of what you owe.”

“Did you already negotiate this?”

“No, but that’s what I think you can get away with,” I stated plainly.

“Isn’t that just something you made up? Why not 70%?”

“Because that won’t work.”

“How do you know?”

“Because this is what I do for a living,” I said with irritation. “Look, I’m happy to go give them whatever you want. You’re calling the shots. But if you want the opinion of the guy who has put together nearly every one of these deals for the last 170 years, 80% will make everyone relatively satisfied.”

“Fine. Fine.” Zadeck went to his desk where he kept his tele—odd place for it—and punched out some credits. He gave me a token.

“I’ll also need about 5 grand for the hotel bill.”

“Then it’s more than 80%,” Zadeck said.

“Yes, and my fee will make it even more. But it’s well under 100%. No one died. No property was damaged. And your reputation will still be solid on and off station.”

“And what is your fee?” Zadeck asked slyly.

“My fee is whatever you feel I deserve.”

I stared him square in the eyes.

I loved this part. You could see him stewing as he looked down at his tele. Belvaille was a small town, especially at the top. If Zadeck were to become known as cheap, that could have a pretty serious impact, especially among his current elite clients.

This liquor shipment was obviously the biggest deal he had done, and he was trying to make a power move into the upper echelons. And I was a guy who lived in the upper echelons—or at least at the fringes of it.

He beamed 35,000 to my tele. It was a very generous price and I was absolutely ready to treat Zadeck with respect and let bygones be bygones.