“Since you are in a military force I assume you know about the Molochs, a race even more savage than the Zorlans. There are also rumors that there is another race on Vega, a shadowy, sinister race. They don’t want to be known so they keep in the shadows or underground. It is said they control the Molochs and are, to be blunt, evil.”
“That I had not heard.”
“Who they are or what they are no one knows. Of course, no one knows much about Vega, period, for that matter.”
“If that’s true, why would a race keep themselves hidden and how would they control the Molochs?”
Majaste shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m only reporting the very nasty rumors. Vega is a death planet. Your squad would do well to go in quickly and get out even quicker.”
“That’s what we plan to do - with the aid of your explosives of course.”
“You will need a good leader. You trust Ryvenbark?”
“Yes. As much as any man in the galaxy. And he trusts me.”
“Good. As I said, I always wish clients well.” He raised his cup. “May your mission be a success.”
Stephanie clicked her cup on his. “And may we all be richer at the end of the day -or at the end of the mission, so to speak.”
Chapter 8
“As you can see, I’m out of chips, Mr. Mavers. But that should cover your raise, plus I’m raising you a hundred thousand. A planet should be worth that much, at least.” the CEO said.
His last name was Rosstt. Mavers had forgotten his first name. He had no idea about the CEO’s business acumen, but he was a lousy poker player. There were only two guidelines in Mavers’ profession. If someone shoots at you, you hope he’s a lousy shot. If someone plays poker with you, you hope he’s lousy at cards. If he is lousy at cards, and a terrible shot, you have hit a streak of good luck.
The game had been going on for almost two hours, with a twenty minute break at the end of the first hour. Mavers puffed a thin cigar that was between his lips. He was yet again very thankful that throughout history men have enjoyed playing games and gambling, a habit that seemed to be shared with other races. Mavers was skillful at gambling and was immensely grateful that, due to his skills, he had not done an honest day’s work in years.
The CEO, Dumars Rosstt was a portly fellow who sweated a lot. Beads of sweat dripped from his chubby jowls, although it wasn’t that hot in the room. The Biscayne Beach casino was a first-rate, five-star establishment and didn’t allow its customers to be uncomfortable.
Mavers leaned back in his chair and picked up the deed. It looked legit. Not that a CEO would cheat. Rather, a CEO wouldn’t cheat with four other big-name businessmen around.
“If I won, what would I do with a planet?” Mavers asked.
“Anything you want” Rosstt said. “Berritan came into my corporation’s possession only a short time ago. To be honest, I haven’t even visited there. I’m told it is a pleasant little place, but it is somewhat out of the way. Which is why I don’t mind risking it.”
Mavers looked at the deed and read a bit of the small print. “This is out of Federation space. The Feryank claim this region.”
“It’s in the outer reaches of the territory they claim. Which is why they were willing to sell. They have also agreed to recognize as owner anyone who legally controls the deed.”
Mavers had seen a lot of odd things tossed into a poker pile, but he had never been offered a planet. Then again, the atmosphere might be toxic and the planet might be the cosmic dump of space. But in poker, sometimes you take a chance. Real estate can be a good investment. He tossed the paper back into the pot, counted out a hundred thousand in chips, and plopped them on top of the deed.
“I call” Mavers said.
Rosstt showed a White Shark smile. He slapped his cards down on the table. “Three aces.”
“I hope you weren’t planning on building a vacation home on Berritan” Mavers said. He took his cigar out of his mouth and spread his cards on the table. “Three kings and two lovely fives. A full house.”
Rosstt’s smile disappeared. A couple of sweat beads dropped on the green felt tablecloth. He choked and shook his head. Mavers pulled in both the chips and the deed.
“Gentlemen, I think I will take a break. But I thank you for the very profitable evening.” He walked over to the teller to cash in his winnings.
“I see you did well tonight, Mr. Mavers.”
“Lady Luck was on my side. Plus, I think one of the other players had a bit too much to drink. It probably affected his judgment and card playing.”
“Shall we transfer this directly to your bank account?”
“That will be fine, except for these.”
Mavers grabbed four blue chips, worth five thousand each and gave them to him. “Put this in your tip jar. You run a good place here.”
The teller smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Mavers. All of the servers were pulling for you to win. We remembered your prior generosity.”
“To keep good fortune I think you should spread it around” Mavers said.
The clerk hesitated a moment, raised a hand then let it slip back. He looked around, a bit apprehensively, which Mavers thought was odd. The casino had security cameras and stun guns everywhere. There was nothing coming out of the shadows. The teller twitched the corner of his mouth, then raised his finger again.
“Mr. Mavers, there’s something you should know.”
Mavers had started to walk away but retraced his steps. “What is it?”
“I don’t mean to talk out of turn sir, but I’ve been here for a long time, and Mr. Rosstt has been coming here to play poker for a long time. And of course rumors are constant in a place like this.”
Mavers nodded. “What are the rumors about our friendly but bad poker playing CEO?”
“Eight months ago, he lost a considerable amount of money, plus a large section of Temeros in a poker game.”
“Temeros. Isn’t that a planet right in the crossroads of galactic travel?”
“Yes. And as such it’s very valuable. It was said Mr. Rosstt or his company owned rather large sections of it. Large and very, very valuable sections of the planet. The day after he lost it, it was rumored three rough-looking gentlemen who were professionals in what they do paid a visit to the man who won the hand and who now owned those large sections of Temeros.”
“I see. I’m guessing the winner returned the property to the company.”
“Yes. As I understand, it was very politely explained that if he did not sign over the property, he would never play poker again. Nor would he be doing such things as walking again.”
Mavers looked at the table where Rosstt was still sitting. He didn’t look too happy.
“If that’s the case I’m surprised he’s still CEO.”
“It is said he is an excellent corporate leader and has had numerous insights that have reaped huge profits. So the company wanted to keep him. Even if he is lousy at table games.”
“Yes, losing to a full house is a big flaw.”
“So perhaps you should consider disposing of your planet as soon as possible.”
“That’s something to keep in mind. Thank you, Leo.”
Mavers walked out of the casino and into the restaurant. He planned to have a big steak and a few drinks to celebrate. But first thing he did was to say hello to an acquaintance who happened to be at the bar. Mavers figured he might be needing a special type of expertise.
The steak was excellent. So were all the side dishes. He was so busy eating and drinking that he didn’t notice the two aliens who kept him in their sight throughout the meal. In Texas vernacular, which Mavers knew a great deal about, they looked mean and ornery. They looked that way because they were, in fact, mean and ornery. With more than a bit of viciousness thrown in.
Online, Mavers checked his bank account the next morning and was exceedingly pleased. The numbers were record-breaking. He hummed as he walked down to the restaurant and entered a private room for breakfast. He was n
ot a morning person, but that was an occupational norm for gamblers. He didn’t like to talk to people until at least ten in the morning.
The waitress’ beaming smile convinced him that she was a morning person.
“Mr. Mavers, how are you feeling this morning?” she asked as she placed the yellow scrambled eggs and bacon before him.
He gave a low wattage smile back. “Better than usual. Anytime you win at poker you feel better than usual.”
“I heard you had a good night.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Rumors fly at light speed around here.”
He sipped orange juice as she placed the sparkling white coffee cup on the table.
“Brazilian Mountain Brew.” she told him. “I believe it’s your favorite.”
“Thank you.”
Two aliens walked in. Suddenly the coffee tasted sour. Xulons are tall, skinny creatures and extremely unpleasant. Large eyes and large teeth that can be seen when they speak. Mavers thought they’d been banned from this region. One sat down at the table. The other stood. Unlike the waitress, they did not have a beaming smile.
“I don’t recall inviting you to sit down.” Mavers said, as he lifted a forkful of egg.
“We didn’t ask.”
“Which was very impolite of you. The rudeness of Xulons is legendary. Which may be why you’re not liked much. You two walked in, now you can walk out. I’m not inviting you to brunch.”
Besides being impolite, there was another reason why the Xulons were not on the invitation list of most other races. They were aggressive and malicious. They had, if Mavers recalled correctly, a few genocides in their background.
“You own a planet. We want it. You will sign it over to us.” the seated Xulon said. He flashed his incisors, but it couldn't really be called a smile.
“Why should I do that? I don’t like you.”
The Xulon stretched his long, thin fingers on the table. “You’re a gambler. You need your hands in your work. What if we cut them off?”
It was not an idle threat. Xulons were known for mutilating enemies.
Mavers crunched a strip of bacon, then picked up his coffee cup before answering. “You know the only plus about Xulons is that you are incredibly stupid.”
“You may not feel that way when you are without hands.”
Mavers took another sip of his coffee. “For one thing, stupid, this is a highly advanced, very high-tech casino. There are robotic guards and the entire security system is run by an AI computer.”
“AI?”
“Artificial Intelligence, stupid. All conversations in public rooms are recorded. So the AI computer, who controls lasers and any number of other weapons aimed at you, is already on alert. If you tried anything you would not get out of this casino alive.”
“What makes you think we care about getting out alive? Having you dead would accomplish our goal just as well as obtaining the planet.”
Mavers hadn’t thought about that. The Xulons were not only murderous aliens, they could also be suicidal murderous aliens.
He reached for his gun, but before fingers touched metal, a knife thunked into the chest of the standing Xulon. The second Xulon screamed when a second knife cut through his hand and penned it to the table. Green blood flowed. Gun in hand, Mavers stood up. He tapped the hilt of the knife with the gun. The Xulon screamed again. He pointed the gun toward the man who had just stepped out from behind a curtain.
“The unusual thing about my friend here is that with all the high-tech weapons nowadays, he prefers to be old-fashioned. He likes knives. An expert with them as a matter of fact. This is Gentleman Jack Dubrois.”
Dubrois wore a hat and he tipped it.
“Nice to make your acquaintance.”
Mavers tapped the knife again. The Xulon jerked violently. Mavers pistol-whipped the alien. Green blood and Xulon skin smacked against the wall. Mavers laid the gun butt on the knife. The Xulon groaned again.
“OK, here’s how we’re going to play it. You go back and tell your masters that whenever I see another Xulon I’m going to kill him. After I kill him, I will offer my little planet to the Andorans who, I believe, are your bitterest enemies. They might find some use for it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Mavers yanked the knife from the table. The Xulon gasped and fell to the floor. He struggled up to his knees then staggered out of the room.
“Here’s your knife back.” Mavers said, as he tossed the knife to his friend.
Dubrois didn’t bother to catch it, but let it fall to the carpet.
“It’s dirty now. I only use clean ones.”
“You must run through a lot of them.”
“I get a discount from the maker.”
Mavers sat down and picked up his fork.
“You’re going to eat?”
“Sure, I’ve eaten through worse than this. They have a very good chef here.”
The wounded Xulon crawled to the door. The fingers of his good hand slipped on the knob once, then clenched it and opened the door. As he hobbled out, two Terlerans walked in, impressive as always. One gave a disinterested smile as he watched the Xulon stagger out. He turned and looked at the gambler.
“A previous business meeting, Mr. Mavers?”
Terlerans were known for their dry sense of humor. Most were about six-five and looked human, except for a gold complexion. Both were impeccably dressed, as always. The Terlerans were the moral and fashion opposites from the Xulon. The two wore business suits, one blue, the other brown. The suits sparkled in the dim, early light of the restaurant. The gold buttons shone brighter than the lights. Both had black vests on. Both wore hats. The taller one tipped it as he said hello.
“Jazez Abontall. We are representatives from our planet, and we’d like to talk to you.”
Mavers nodded then looked at the dead Xulon. “Perhaps we can find a private room.” Mavers pointed to his friend. “This is the Jack Dubrois, an associate.”
With off the scale courtesy Jazez walked over and extended his hand. “Good to meet you.” Jazez’s voice held astonishing sincerity. The tone indicated it was the highpoint of his day to have met Gentleman Jack. Jack was almost as charming in return.
The manager was also very courteous. The four were hustled into a small room with a round table. Jazez placed his briefcase on the table and opened it. Mavers gave a curious smile. But he didn’t have to worry about possible attacks from the Terlerans. They were the only race that could challenge the Kargans’ reputation for impeccable honest. It was rumored that once, about a half century ago, a Terleran broke his word. He was immediately banished and exiled from his planet. No one had heard of him since.
“If I understand, Mr. Mavens, you are now the owner of a small planet.”
“Yes. Don’t know anything about it though. I won the deed last night, but I’m not sure it would stand up in court.”
“Oh, we have looked into that and we are convinced it would.”
Mavers nodded. Terlerans were rarely wrong about business matters. Rarely wrong on any subject, for that matter. They were very intelligent and quite studious when they needed to be.
Deadly Voyage (Logan Ryvenbark's Saga Book 1) Page 8
