Hard Luck Hank: Basketful of Crap (10 page)

I went back to City Hall to review
check-in records. It might be the lowest paying of my jobs, but it was easy to
make headway. I was nearing the end of the time window for when the Quadrad
sister supposedly arrived when I spotted something odd.

“Hey.”

For five minutes all the videos
were blank.

I called in Buddl.

“What’s wrong with your system,
there’s a big gap here on all the videos.”

He sat down and checked it too.

“That’s not possible,” he said
astutely.

“Then it’s a miracle. Your main
feed must have been scrambled or something.”

“But that’s the point. Each one of
the cameras is independent and feeds to a different bank. One might go out, but
never all of them. Not sure if you know, but some years ago Belvaille was
invaded by Dredel Led at check-in.”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“Oh, right. But we increased
security after that. If this happened, it would trip alarms for all the
guards.”

“Could the guards have been
bribed?”

“That’s twenty people who are on
random schedules. Not even counting the people at City Hall. Did you check
quarantine records too?”

We pulled those tapes to
cross-reference the ships that would correspond to that gap at check-in. The
data was also missing from there.

“That’s not possible,” he said
again.

These pale ladies were good. No
wonder Garm didn’t want them skipping around. Not that they were exactly on a
leash.

“Can I get the ship manifests that
would correspond to these points at check-in and quarantine?”

“I can get you the passenger
manifests, but not what was shipped. But it could be up to thousands of people.
It depends on how many ships came in at that time.”

“That’s fine.”

I figure with the list, I could
then search for all those people. By process of elimination, the person I
didn’t find would be the pale sister. And I would have a name, description, and
other information from the ship’s record.

“Is it possible a person could be
shipped as cargo?”

“No. Even animals have to be put
into a passenger manifest. If it’s not, it won’t be protected and when the ship
portals, it would be killed. That’s why good beer tells you how many times it’s
portaled before it gets to you on the container.”

“Really? I never saw that. You
learn something new every month,” I said, wondering how long I’d been drinking
bad-tasting beer and didn’t know it.

Now I had to see a man about a gun.

“Hey, Hank. What are you wearing?”
Delovoa asked as he opened the door.

“It’s a helmet.”

He stared at it.

“It’s fancy. Is that the new
style?”

“I don’t know. I just have to wear
it for a job.”

“And you’re wearing shorts and new
shoes. This is like a whole wardrobe switch.”

“Eh, you got to stay hip,” I said.
“And women like to see men’s legs just like we do.”

“They look comfortable.”

“They are,” I said, demonstrating
by lifting my legs.

“So what you been up to?” he asked.

“Working. I got a bunch of new
jobs. I’m working for the corporations now, too.”

“I figured it would only be a
matter of time. They got a lot of money to throw around. Might as well grab
some.”

“I’m trying to figure them out, but
they’re complicated.”

“What’s complicated?”

I told him about Rendrae’s story
and the corps fighting by the telescopes.

“That doesn’t sound right,” Delovoa
said, biting his lip in thought.

“That’s not what I came here for,
though. Your autocannon nearly killed me firing it.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“I—wait, how did you hear? I was
the only one there.”

“No, I don’t mean someone told me,
I literally heard it. That gun isn’t exactly quiet. Did you say the suckerface
thing before you used it?”

“Suckface. Maybe. But when I shot,
it flung me like twenty feet in the air and I landed on my face.”

“It couldn’t possibly do that.”

“Maybe not twenty feet, but a lot.
And it spun me like a top.”

“How did you hold it?”

I showed him.

“No, you need to get your legs down
and lean into it. Keep your center of gravity low,” he said, stretching down
like he was about to do the splits.

“I can’t do that,” I complained.
“Especially during a fight. I’m not that flexible. Can you make the gun a bit
smaller?”

Delovoa threw his arms up.

“It’s not a recipe where you can
just add more or less sugar. It is what it is. Everything about that cannon is
designed to work a certain way. It was hard enough to make it manual. Even if I
cut down on the charge, the ballistics would get all wonky and it would lose
tremendous accuracy.”

“Accuracy? I can’t even aim. It
doesn’t have a sight for me to look over.”

“Hank, if you put your head above
that barrel to look down a sight the cannon would flip up and hit you in the
face. And that might be enough to hurt even you. You need to keep your bulk
behind the recoil.”

“Alright. I need another armor
piercing shell.”

“Sure,” he said, about to head into
his basement.

“And I need fifty guns and fifty
sets of adjustable body armor.”

Anything illegal I could possibly
want could be found at the Belvaille Gentleman’s Club. I looked around for
people on my short list I wanted to recruit.

Wait. Why should I look for them? I
had two million credits to my name. I called the shots.

I sat down in the corner of the
cafeteria.

“Put some blinds around here,” I
said to the cook, indicating my table. “And bring me a party tray and twelve
cans of beer—that hasn’t portaled more than twice.” I gave him a token with a
hundred credits on it. He looked at it in his greasy hand.

“What’s a party tray?”

“Stuff with dips. And things to
dip. That can be shared.”

He looked at me blankly.

“I can make sandwiches,” he said.
“And we got three beers. Garbage, junk, and not bad.”

“Twelve cans of not bad and fifty
cups. And make me like fifty little sandwiches. Really small—”

“The bread is one size,” he
interrupted.

“Take a normal sandwich and cut it
in a third. Or a quarter. This isn’t building a Portal. Give me a tray of
those. And lots of napkins.”

“Would you like a mirror and some
fluffy pillows?”

“Hey smartass, I just gave you a
hundred. And it’s not all for me.”

One by one I called the guys over.
I made it really clear to them the first order of business was keeping their
traps shut. Otherwise, there would be hell to pay.

Hell being my autocannon.

I asked where everyone was working before
offering the job to make sure no one was currently employed at the Ulzaker-Ses
club.

I
did
eat most of the
sandwiches. But the guys helped themselves to beer.

Not many of the people I was
interested in tapping happened to be at the club at the time. People had lives.
So I teled them up and told them to come down so I could talk with them.

They thought it was very odd I
didn’t want to talk on the tele and I wanted to negotiate at the Gentleman’s
Club. It was a bit of a breach of protocol.

Guys were yelling at sports monitors.
And playing little table games with each other. There was a sauna and steam
room. Small exercise area. And the chairs were uncomfortable with uneven legs.

And of course it smelled.

After about three hours of
corralling people and eating sandwiches, I had hired eighteen men.

“How much does this job pay?” one
asked.

“It’s anywhere from one day to one
week’s work and it pays 20,000.”

This guy wasn’t a good card player
because his eyes bugged.

“For what? Attacking the Navy?”

“No. You’ll know when it’s ready.
It’s nothing too big.”

“What do I need?”

“You. Clothes. I’m providing
weapons and armor. Again, you breathe a word of this…”

He shook my hand and rose from my
table, taking a cup of beer. Quite a lot of people were hovering around the
edge of my makeshift recruitment center. They saw guys come in and leave with
big smiles and beer.

They weren’t stupid. Well. They
knew a job was going down. And they wanted in, whatever it was.

“Hank, what you looking for?” someone
asked, peeking over my screen.

“If I want you, I’ll send for you.”

I got one of my recent hires to
stand guard out of earshot and shoo people away.

I also got two guys to monitor the
Ulzaker-Ses club. Balday-yow and Cad, my old doorman accomplices. Find out who
was there, when. The security. The traffic. The entrances and exits.
Everything. I didn’t tell them about each other, so if they were any good after
a week they would also notice someone else casing the place.

I figured it would take a week for
Delovoa to get me all the gear. And a week to recruit everyone I wanted. It was
easy at the start, but it would get harder to reach fifty as the pickings got
slimmer.

And the longer I waited the more
likely someone was to spill. Naked Guy said there were thirty guards. I guessed
that meant they were prepped and ready this minute. But no business could be
profitable with thirty guards forever. Not even a casino.

So I would wait them out until
traffic died down and there was less likelihood of hurting innocent bystanders.

And I considered myself an innocent
bystander.

I was now looking for 183 people.

They were the combined passenger
lists that corresponded to the blank check-in and quarantine records. Good
thing I was being paid by the week.

I was pretty sure the pale sister
had jammed the scanners using whatever Quadrad skills they’re taught while
being potty trained.

“Hi, are you Jeulada Loenor?” I
said to the woman at the door, fumbling over her name.

“Yes? What’s this about?” She was
an attractive woman, very short, dark hair and eyes. Seemed young and feisty.

“And does, whew, Gwodendion Bwoew
Rastonqil—or something like that—live here as well?”

“What’s this about?” she insisted,
her arms crossed.

“I’m just doing follow-up from
quarantine. Everything is okay, just need to do a count.”

“Yes, he’s my husband,” she said.

“Ah, good. That’s all I need. Have
a great day,” I said, turning to go. That’s two down and 181 more to go.

I was a half-block down the street
when I heard from behind me:

“Hey!”

A man ran up to me, looking pissed.
He was a muscular guy, face full of stubble. He also seemed young.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“You upset my wife back there.”

This was utterly surprising.

“I did? How?”

“I’d like an apology.”

I wasn’t wearing my autocannon for
a change so when he ran up I must have just seemed like a big slow guy. I
looked to the apartment and saw the woman standing at the front door awaiting
my response.

“No, I think it’s best I say sorry
to her.”

I walked past the man and he tried
to put his hand on my shoulder to stop me and felt how solid I was.

“Look, uh, we just got to the
station. We don’t know how the authorities work here,” he said quickly.

“Oh, I’m not the authorities.”

I kept walking to the apartment and
saw his wife growing more and more concerned. At the entrance she suddenly got
the idea to close the door. I put my foot out and blocked it. She wisely
retreated into her apartment.

“Come in,” I said to the husband.

Inside it was furnished, but
cheaply. I assumed they were renting with furniture. The husband and wife were
standing next to each other and didn’t look upset any longer.

“Hi. Have a seat.” I indicated their
couch.

They hesitated.

“I could just rip off your legs and
you wouldn’t have a choice,” I said helpfully.

They reluctantly sat.

“Look, I get it,” I said to the
man, “you’re macho, you want to show off to your wife, you want to be tough.
And you,” I said to the woman, “you want to see that he cares. When you say
you’re upset you want to know he’s concerned.”

I took a step closer and leaned
down a bit to put my head more at their level.

“But you’re on Belvaille now. And
not everyone is as nice as me. This could have gone a very different way if you
said it to the wrong person. Do you all understand?” And I really hoped they
did.

“Yeah,” they said.

“Sorry about coming off like a—”
the husband began, but I cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I walked out with a smile on my
face, feeling I had done my good deed for the day.

At home I got a tele from the
General.

“Are you in a secure location to
speak of our operations?” he asked.

Secure. Operations. I rolled my
eyes.

“Sure,” I said.

“What do you have to report?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you progressing?” His voice
was accusatory. But what else was new?

“Yeah, but you have to understand
how difficult this is. I can’t say I’m looking for a disintegrator because then
the thief will know I’m working on behalf of you—which won’t make me popular.
And just saying I’m looking for a weapon isn’t getting me anywhere. I don’t
have a real angle to approach this. I need to wait until they get hungry enough
to want to move it.”

“Would it help to inform you that
Quadrad stole the device?”

I stood there fidgeting.

“Are you familiar with them?” he
continued.

This was a fine line. I was actively
getting paid by the Quadrad sisters even if it was for another job. But they
paid a whole lot less and tended to stab me. Still.

“No,” I said after a moment.

“Citizen Hank, you are not an effective
liar. We know you have had contact with the Quadrad.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“To see where your loyalties are.”

“There’s other Quadrad here too,” I
said.

“Your former Adjunct Overwatch is
not the thief.”

The Navy hated Garm. They couldn’t
even say her name. She had sided with the short-lived resistance during
Belvaille’s martial law.

“Well then the next time they
attack me, I’ll ask if they’re interested in selling.”

“Interested—” he sputtered. “You
will secure the device. Those are your orders and what you are being paid to
do.”

“Look, General,” I began, then
stopped.

A good negotiator modifies his
tactics based on each person he speaks with. After all, it’s them you’re
negotiating with, not yourself. There are some people that if you go in like a
fighter, they will scrap it out until it kills you both; and there are some
people that if you go in with a soft touch, they will think you’re weak and try
to step on you.

The trick was to recognize each
type and be crafty enough to change your own style to best suit your needs.
Adapting yourself was the single hardest part about being a negotiator.

The General was not some young
couple with big mouths. He was a general sitting in a battleship, in the Jam, that
blocked the Portals that kept this space station alive. The amount of leverage
he had was so grossly out of proportion to mine that I should be thankful he
was even deigning to speak to me.

“I want to return the disintegrator
to you in working order to get my full pay. But I need time to do it. You have
given me valuable information—which I really wish you had told me from the
start—and I will proceed as judiciously as possible.”

He squinted and sneered and boiled.
If I didn’t know better I would think he was passing a kidney stone.

“If you get any ideas of not returning
the device to us, your existence will be very short and very painful.”

“I wouldn’t expect otherwise.”