Gambler (9 page)

Nova's brow furrowed. She held out a hand
but Roxanne waved it away. The room filled with the smell of the
cigarette. It wafted up Nova's nostrils and made her head dizzy.
She wanted nothing more than to be free of the poisonous fumes. It
was another affectation of Roxanne's obsession; while the rest of
the human colonies smoked clean drugs, Roxanne insisted on smoking
the old-century toxic ones.

"Why are you here?" Roxanne said. "I'll
admit you're probably the last person I expected to see walking
through the door."

Nova nodded. She looked down at her hands.
She hadn't expected to feel so intimidated. Apparently habits
learned during childhood were hard to break because despite
defeating entire lecheon covens and facing down the Ancients, her
heart fluttered at confronting this ghost from her past.

"I'm doing a job," she said.

"Oh? And have you come to break my head?"
Roxanne asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"No, no, nothing like that. I just thought
I'd ask if you've heard anything."

"Me? Why would I have heard anything? I'm
just a simple business owner," Roxanne said with a crooked
smile.

"Let's not play games," Nova said, resting
her tea on her lap. "I know as well as you do that this place is
the absolute central hub for Tabryn gossip."

Nova stared at Roxanne. The older woman's
smile grew, but she waved her hand for Nova to continue.

"I'm working for Cracos."

"Ah. His casino brings me a lot of
business."

"He's losing money and he doesn't know how.
Do you know of any major operations going on? If you give me
something useful, I'm sure I can chuck a few credits your way."

Roxanne chuckled. "I assure you, my services
are worth far more than a few credits. Or at least they were back
in my youth. Regarding your disappearing money though, I don't
think I can help."

"Really?" Nova said. "Let's not waste time.
You name your price and we'll get a move on."

"As much as I would love to take your
violently acquired money, I really don't have anything for
you."

Nova sighed and sat back in her chair.
Another dead end. She took a sip of tea. Somewhere in a far room
children giggled. Nova shook her head; there were too many ghosts
in this place.

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time," Nova
said, standing. She placed the fragile cup back on the table and
looked at Roxanne.

"Nonsense, it's always good to see one of my
children again, alive. Sadly it doesn't happen often."

Nova had to nod at the grim sentiment. How
many of the children she had grown up with were still alive? Not
many, if any. Those that were alive were probably high on Zine or
some other drug. Nova was an exception, for sure.

"Did you want to see the others before you
leave?" Roxanne said, her old legs shaking as she stood.

"Would I know any of them?"

Roxanne waved her hand. "They're all the
same when you get down to it."

Nova nodded. "No, thank you. There are too
many memories in this place for me."

"You should try living here."

Nova smiled and nodded, heading for the door
to the front room.

"You may want to leave the other way,"
Roxanne said. "Business will have started."

"Of course." Nova strode to the back door
that led to the yard.

She laid her hand on the knob and stopped.
"It was good to see you," she said, still facing the door.

"And you," Roxanne replied to Nova's back.
"Stop by anytime."

Nova nodded and marched out into the night.
She made her way through the toy-strewn yard and back onto the
pavement. Night had truly set in and the streets were as dark as
her thoughts.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

"Take us to the Pits," Nova said as she
stepped up into Crusader.

"So, things went well with Roxanne then?"
Cal asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nova glared at him before stomping through
the storage bay to a large cabinet. She threw open the doors;
inside was a metal suit with red and silver sections that had
become dull and dented over time. The layers of metal made it stand
a foot taller than Nova and the arms and legs were three times the
size of hers.

"The Pits will be the best place to get
information," she said.

"That may be right, however that doesn't
mean that you have to strap on your gear and get into a fight."

"I'm just looking," said Nova, closing the
cupboard door. "I'll be good."

Crusader landed with a gentle thud and Nova
went back to the sliding door.

The scene beyond was almost as familiar to
Nova as Roxanne's house. The buildings were cleaner and less
dilapidated, but the feeling was the same. They were in the outer
suburbs, the edge of the slums, and the hotspot for Tabryn's
criminal element.

Nova strode out of the small parking area.
Crusader blended in amongst the other rust-buckets, and wouldn't
tempt any passing thieves. The ships were mostly old or in
desperate need of repair, or at least that's how they looked from
the outside. Nova would bet fifty credits that the insides of the
ships, the engines and the storage bays, were in top condition,
good enough to get away from the authorities anyway.

She walked a block down the street until she
came to a non-descript metal door. She knocked twice, paused, and
then knocked three more times, before opening the door.

Thick smoke billowed up out of the door,
revealing two large men dressed in black standing on either side;
they looked Nova over but didn't move. Their necks were almost as
wide as their heads and their mouths remained thin lines.

A set of bent wooden stairs led down past
the security guards, winding underground. Shouts and laughter
echoed up the stairs, as well as a welcoming, warm glow.

Nova had so many memories of this building,
of these steps. This was where she had first learned independence,
where she'd found a way to get herself off Tabryn. Here, she'd
found real friends, mixed with a few enemies. She just hoped some
of those friends were still alive.

At the bottom of the stairs was a warm
bar-room, filled to bursting with men and women in dirty clothes.
Many of them wore overalls, while others had brightly coloured
shirts. They were the labourers and mechanics, the lower classes
that helped keep the upper class afloat.

Drinks sloshed from glasses and spattered to
the floor. Raucous laughter echoed around the room as large men
patted even larger men on their backs. An old-fashioned game of
darts played out in a corner of the bar while a pool table was
being viciously assaulted by some very amateur players.

"Well I'll be damned," said a male voice
over the crowd.

Nova turned towards the voice. It sounded so
familiar, even after all the years. She hurried to the bar and sat
down on a stool, ignoring the sticky remnants of whatever had been
spilled. She grinned up at the red-faced barman as he stared at her
with his mouth hanging open.

"Long time," Nova said.

"Damn straight it is. Why have you been
keeping clear? Been in the slammer have you?" said the barman.

"Of course not!" Nova laughed. "As if I'd
let the Confederacy get hold of me. You should know better than
that, George."

"Well it's the only explanation I could come
up with as to why you haven't visited me in so many years," George
said. He pulled a dirty cloth from his shirt and futilely patted at
the pools of liquid spread out on the bar.

"Been busy. You know how it is," Nova
said.

"Oh yeah; found a better mech ring?" George
said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, this one's the only ring for me." Nova
chuckled.

"Damn straight."

"No. I've joined the Hunter business."

"Well, screw me."

"Oh c'mon George, that didn't work seven
years ago, and it's not going to work now."

They both laughed and George pulled a large
glass from under the bar. He filled it with amber liquid and shoved
it across the bench into Nova's waiting hands. The air swirled with
smoke but unlike Roxanne's poisonous fumes, these were lightly
scented, floral, and best of all, harmless.

"So you're a Hunter," George said. "I never
would have guessed it."

"Through and through," Nova said, lifting
her glass.

"You come back here to reminisce, maybe step
back into the ring for old time's sake?"

"No, nothing like that." Nova's heart
fluttered. She'd missed this place more than she cared to admit.
"I'm looking for some information."

"Well you know if I've got it, I'll gladly
pass it on."

"The Lucky Coin is leaking money."

"Ha! Good. More for the rest of us." George
handed a frothy jug to a waiting man and accepted the cred stick
with a nod.

"I'm working for Cracos. I need to know
where it's going."

"Aww come on now. Why are you working for
that scum?"

"You know lots of people would say the same
about this place."

"Yeah, but at least we're scum you can
trust."

"Do you know anything or not?"

"No," George sighed. "Wish I did though, I'd
happily have myself a piece of that pie."

"Too right about that," Nova said, taking a
deep swallow of the warm liquid. It slid down her throat and left a
pleasant burn in her mouth.

"Anything else, your majesty?" George said
with a twinkle in his eye, feigning a mock bow.

"Nah, that's enough business. How have you
been?"

"Same as it ever was. You know as well as
anyone that nothing ever changes here."

"Too right about that, I'm pretty sure you
still haven't washed these glasses since the last time I was
here."

"You'd be right about that."

"Any of the crew still around?" Nova asked,
dreading the answer.

"A few," George replied, a faraway look
glazed over his eyes. "Honey's still around, probably downstairs
getting ready for her fight actually. Lenovo didn't make it
though."

"What happened?" Nova asked, remembering the
older man's ready smile and quick wit. He'd helped Nova find her
feet after she was kicked out of Roxanne's.

"Gang fight. You know how he was into the
drug trade," George said. "I guess a deal must have gone bad,
because he was found in the gutter, gunshot to the head."

Nova hung her head; she'd been afraid of
this. The place had a lot of good memories, but what was the point
of that if all the people responsible for those memories were
dead?

"Tuft has moved on," George said, his eyes
still gazing into the past.

"Moved on where?"

"Got a job in the Resources Sector. Decided
to go there and make his fortune. At least that's what he said.
Seemed like a pipe-dream to me."

"It was," Nova said with confidence. "The
Resources District is in even worse shape than this cosmic
craphole. People dying all the time."

"That's what I told him; of course the
damned fool never listened."

"What about Linker?" Nova asked. He had been
a good friend. Sure, he drank too much and gambled more than he
earned, but he was a good man and he was as loyal as they come.

"Pissed and poor just like you'd expect,"
George said. "Still working downstairs, still trying to pay off his
bills. A losing battle that one."

Nova nodded as she swallowed the last of her
cider. She would have liked to stay talking to George and drinking
until the morning came but there was work to do. The last thing she
wanted was to waste time and let Vicki get the bounty. That was
something she would never live down.

Nova got to her feet and tossed a cred-stick
onto the bar.

"Was on the house," George said, pushing it
back.

"Then spend it on yourself," Nova replied.
"Let's call it an apology for the years I haven't visited."

"If that's the case then you still owe me."
George grinned as he shoved the stick into the pocket of his dirty
white apron. "You know the way down?"

"Better than my own mother," Nova retorted
with a smile as she pushed her way through the crowd towards the
next set of doors and the stairs beyond.

Behind the stairs a rickety lift rumbled
along on rusted cables. There were already people waiting for it to
make its ponderous journey back up from The Pits. Nova shuffled to
the back of the queue.

There were people of many different types
standing around her, but mostly they were the same characters she
had seen in the bar; the overworked labourer, the well-dressed
businessman with a secret habit, the thin woman just looking for
some entertainment. They were the same people that could be found
in any such establishment. They gathered around the furtive places,
looking guilty but not moving. Nova didn't judge them; she could
just as easily have ended up as one of them. And if she was being
honest, wasn't she at that very moment standing in the same queue,
to get on the same lift, to go down to the same violent arena?

The lift arrived and a few bedraggled
passengers stumbled out. They pushed their way through the waiting
crowd and into the bar-room beyond, their clothes covered in dirt
and sweat glistening over their skin. Some of them looked sour as
they stormed out of the lift, while others grinned and clutched
handfuls of cred-sticks.

Nova moved with the crowd into the old lift.
Her stomach jolted as they began the descent; it had always been
her most hated part of the whole trip. She tried not to look over
the side. The sight of the ground falling away below and being
dangled in this cage of death by a single cable was too much. She
preferred to lock her eyes on the roof and pretend that she was
anywhere else. If it weren't so many floors she would just use the
stairs, but by the time she made it down, the night would be
over.