“How do we start?”
“Got any money? Or have they got you hogtied on that? I come high. I usually charge for each exhale and inhale.”
“Well, I’ve got a megabuck . . . and a few thousand more. About eight.”
“Hmm . . . Haven’t said I’d take this case. Has it occurred to you that your life may be in danger?”
“Huh! No, it hasn’t”
“Son, people do odd things for money, but they’ll do still more drastic things for power over money. Anybody sittin’ close to a billion credits is in danger; it’s like keeping a pet rattlesnake. If I were you and started feeling ill, I’d pick my own doctor. I’d be cautious about going through doors and standing close to open windows.” He thought. “Rudbek is not a good place for you now; don’t tempt them. Matter of fact, you ought not to be here. Belong to the Diplomatic Club?”
“No, sir.”
“You do now. People ‘ud be surprised if you didn’t. I’m often there, around six. Got a room there, sort of private. Twenty eleven.”
” ‘Twenty eleven.’ ”
“I still haven’t said I’d take it. Got any idea what I’d have to do if I lose this case?”
“Eh? No, sir.”
“What was the place you mentioned? Jubbulpore? That’s where I’d have to move.” Suddenly he grinned. “But I’ve been spoiling for a fight Rudbek, eh? Bruder. You mentioned a megabuck?”
Thorby got out his book of checking certificates, passed them over. Garsch riffled through it, shoved it into a drawer. “We won’t convert this now; they’re almost certainly noting your withdrawals. Anyhow, it’s going to cost you more. G’bye. Say in a couple of days.”
Thorby left, feeling bucked up. He had never met a more mercenary, predatory old man — he reminded Thorby of the old, scarred freedmen professionals who swaggered around the New Amphitheater.
As he came outdoors he saw Guard Headquarters. He looked again — then ducked through murderous traffic and ran up its steps.
Chapter 21
Thorby found a circle of receptionist booths around the great foyer. He pushed through crowds pouring out and went into one. A contralto voice said, “Punch your name. State department and office into the microphone. Wait until the light appears, then state your business. You are reminded that working hours are over and only emergencies are now handled.”
Thorby punched, “Thorby Baslim,” into the machine, then said, “Exotic Corps.”
He waited. The tape repeated, “Punch your name. State the department and office into –” It suddenly cut off. A man’s voice said, “Repeat that.”
“Exotic Corps.”
“Business?”
“Better check my name in your files.”
At last another female voice chanted, “Follow the light immediately over your head. Do not lose it”
He followed it up escalators, down slideways, and into an unmarked door, where a man not in uniform led him through two more. He faced another man in civilian clothes who stood up and said, “Rudbek of Rudbek. I am Wing Marshal Smith.”
“Thorby Baslim, please, sir. Not ‘Rudbek.’ ”
“Names aren’t important but identities are. Mine Isn’t ‘Smith,’ but it will do. I suppose you have identification?”
Thorby produced his ID again. “You probably have my fingerprints.”
“They’ll be here in a moment Do you mind supplying them again?”
While Thorby had his prints taken, a print file card popped out onto the Marshal’s desk. He put both sets into a comparator, seemed to pay no attention but until it flashed green he spoke only politenesses.
Then he said, “All right, Thorby Baslim . . . Rudbek. What can I do for you?”
“Maybe it’s what I can do for you?”
“So?”
“I came here for two reasons,” Thorby stated. “The first Is, I think I can add something to Colonel Baslim’s final report. You know who I mean?”
“I knew him and admired him very much. Go on.”
“The second is — I’d like to go back into the Guard and go ‘X’ Corps.” Thorby couldn’t recall when he had decided this, but he had — not just Pop’s outfit, Pop’s own corps. Pop’s work.
“Smith” raised his brows. “So? Rudbek of Rudbek?”
“I’m getting that fixed.” Thorby sketched rapidly how he must settle his parents’ estate, arrange for handling of their affairs. “Then I’m free. I know it’s presumptuous of an acting ordnanceman third class — no, I was busted from that; I had a fight — for a boot Guardsman to talk about ‘X’ Corps, but I think I’ve got things you could use. I know the People . . . the Free Traders, I mean. I speak several languages. I know how to behave in the Nine Worlds. I’ve been around a bit, not much and I’m no astrogator . . . but I’ve traveled a little. Besides that, I’ve seen how Pop — Colonel Baslim — worked. Maybe I could do some of it.”