“Yeah, but what’s there to do?” growled Do-Wop. “I mean, here we got all kinds of entertainment, lotsa places to grab some action, y’know? What’s Landoor got?”
“Not as much as here,” said Sushi, who had done his own research as soon as he’d learned of the new assignment. “It had some pretty lively resorts back when the mines were working, but that was in your grandpa’s time. Now the main attraction is the scenery-some nice beaches and mountains, they say. And supposedly some pretty good amusement parks.”
“Hey, that could be cool,” said Do-Wop. “I ain’t been on a good roller coaster since before I joined the Legion.”
“That’s not why we’re going there,” Super-Gnat pointed out. She took another of the warm butterhorn rolls Escrima had made for that night’s meal, and said, “We’ve got a job to do, is all. I’m glad we’re not being sent to some iceball asteroid to do it. In the Legion, you take what you can get. Could you pass the butter, Sushi?”
Sushi handed her the butter plate and said, “Gnat’s right, you know. We’ve been pretty lucky, since the captain took over. You watch the news, you realize how many rotten places we could’ve been going.”
“I don’t pay no attention to the news,” scoffed Do-Wop. “Waste of time, if you ask me.”
“That why we no ask you,” said Tusk-anini. “Sushi and Gnat telling truth-plenty bad places to go to.”
“Yeah, and I’m afraid we’re about to go to one of ’em,” said Do-Wop, helping himself to a roll. “Those people just had a war, right? So some of ’em must still be shooting each other, if they need peacekeepers. Maybe they start shooting at us. Don’t tell me that’s better than what we got here.”
“You don’t want to hear, so why you want us tell you?” said Tusk-anini. “Me, I wait and see new place. We going there whether like it or not. Tusk-anini will try and like it.”
“That’s the attitude I like,” said Brandy, stopping to eavesdrop on the conversation. “It figures Do-Wop starts griping about a place before he even gets there.”
“Ah, give us a break, Top,” said Do-Wop, looking up with a hurt expression. “A guy’s got a right to gripe a little bit, ain’t he?”
“Sure, gripe all you want,” said Brandy. “But don’t expect anybody to give you any sympathy if it turns out you actually like the place.” She grinned and went on her way to the dessert counter.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” said Do-Wop, as the others at the table laughed.
“I don’t know for sure,” said Super-Gnat, “but I think it means she expects you to piss and moan no matter what’s going on.”
“Well, sure,” said Do-Wop, puzzled. “What else is a guy supposed to do to pass away the time?”
The others at the table laughed again.
“So you’re going away,” said Laverna. She and Beeker sat in a softly lit back booth in the Tumbling Dice Casino’s Domino Bar. The other tables near them were empty; this time of afternoon, most of the casino’s customers were at the gambling tables. Anybody who wanted a drink could have it delivered to the floor. That made this a perfect spot for a quiet talk.
“My job is moving to another planet,” said Beeker, shrugging. “I can’t very well do anything but go with it.”
Laverna toyed with her glass. “I don’t believe that for one minute,” she said, staring at the butler. “You could retire right now and be comfortable for life. Don’t bother to deny it-I looked it up after a few things you said, and I know just how much you have. You’re not going to be buying a private asteroid as your retirement home, but you’re not going to miss that regular paycheck, either. So you damn well could stay here, if you felt like it.”
“I suppose so-although this place is hardly my ideal retirement home.” A few bars of brassy music came over the sound system as Beeker paused, weighing his words carefully. He continued, “Since you make no secret of having looked into my financial state, I will admit having researched yours. It appears to me that there is no financial reason for you to remain with your employer, either.”
“No financial reason,” said Laverna. She lowered her head, then looked up at Beeker. “Still, I won’t be buying that ticket any time soon. I think you know what I mean, Beeker.”
“Yes, I understand what you are saying,” said Beeker. “Let me point out that, if you really wish to leave, there are ways it can be done. Once you are off-station, it becomes that much easier for you to disappear.”
“Yes, if I don’t mind spending the rest of my life hiding,” said Laverna. She shook her head. “I’d mind that less than most, I suppose-time to read all the books I’ve never had time for, time to try writing something of my own. I’ve never lived the kind of life that attracts attention. But that’s not the problem. I know too much, and Maxine can’t afford to let me out of her control. Even if she were gone…”
“Her successors would worry about what you might reveal-or might be made to reveal, if you turned against them. And the successors would have no personal ties to you to make them hesitate.” Beeker leaned forward and lowered his voice so the music prevented his words from being heard beyond their table. “Still, if you wanted to try, my employer and the Space Legion have resources beyond those of any private person.”
Laverna was quiet for a long moment before saying, “And why should Phule use those resources for my benefit? You don’t expect me to believe he’ll do it out of benevolence-or because you have asked him to help me. As for the Legion-I don’t really think I’m the sort to join-not at my age, anyhow.”
“Actually, there’s rather a tradition of people joining the Legion because they want to escape the past,” said Beeker with a thin smile. He sat back up and looked around at the garishly decorated room, before leaning forward and continuing. “In my employer’s unit, at least, the food and accommodations are as good as in any luxury hotel-and the retirement plan is actually rather good. Granted, the work is sometimes dangerous…but you’re used to that, of course.”
“Stop it,” whispered Laverna. “You’re starting to sound like a recruiting sergeant.” She peered at him intently. “You don’t really mean it, do you?”
Beeker steepled his fingers. “I merely offer it as an alternative to staying here, recognizing as you do that eventually someone will decide that you know more than is good for them. As an intelligent and perceptive woman, you must have given some thought to making your escape before that moment comes. It seems to me that now, with your employer’s influence waning and competitors beginning to circle, is as logical a time as any. But of course you have to judge the moment for yourself.”
Laverna’s eyes looked from one side to the other, making certain nobody was within hearing distance. “You know, Beeker, you might be right about that,” she said. “I’m not going to make any decisions on the spur of the moment, you understand. But you have given me something to think about.”
“Don’t think too long about it,” said Beeker. “The opportunity won’t be here much longer, you know.”
“I know,” said Laverna, and she fell silent. The music system was playing a sinuous minor-key dance tune from two decades ago, music from when they’d both been young. An innocent time, before either had known much responsibility.
The conversation, when it resumed, moved on to other things.
8
Journal #329
The average visitor to Lorelei never even learned the location of Gladstone Park, let alone set foot in it. It was not one of the space station’s leading tourist attractions-in fact, it was not designed for tourists at all. Its official function was to supplement the station’s air-recycling system, cleaning the excess CO, from the atmosphere and replacing it with fresh, organically generated oxygen. The chemical processors were as close to perfect as to make no difference, but many customers persisted in believing that air “naturally” cleaned by twenty square kilometers of trees and grass was somehow better than the “artificial” stuff the recyclers produced.
Had it been their choice, the casino owners would have had no compunction about digging up the grass and trees and replacing it with a few more casinos. After all, it contributed nothing to the station’s economy, which was almost entirely gambling-based. The tourists who’d come to Lorelei wanted artificial light and late hours and the frantic hustle-bustle of money changing hands. Just knowing that the park existed was a sort of security blanket for them. Very few tourists wanted to actually go there.
But the full-time residents-the workers in the hotels, casinos, bars, and restaurants-needed someplace to unwind, someplace they could look at a green surface other than the top of a craps table. A croupier might find it rejuvenating to ride a bicycle on his day off, and a cocktail waitress might enjoy sitting on a bench and resting her eyes by looking at flower beds. Even the bosses found the park a great place to take the workers for a corporate outing, to display their benevolence by setting out an opulent spread, and to prove that they still had the common touch by getting out on the field for a pickup gravball game with the employees…