William moved a few steps away and leaned casually against the bar.
“Well,” he said, talking prison-style, without looking directly at Harry, “what you aren’t seeing is the Main Man on this whole station.”
The Legionnaire-in-disguise frowned slightly.
“That’s funny. I always thought that kinda dude usually kept a low profile, but I could swear I’ve seen him somewhere before. Has the media been shootin’ him or somethin’?”
The bartender let out a snort. “If you’re an astroball fan, you’ve seen him, all right. Remember Ward Stilman?”
“Sure do!” Harry said, sneaking another look at the group in question, but using the bar mirror this time. “So that’s him, huh? Damn! I used to love to watch him bust up people before he got tossed out of the pros.”
“That’s him,” William confirmed. “But he’s not the one I was talking about. The old biddy’s the real mover and shaker on Lorelei. Stilman’s just her chief muscle.”
Harry’s eyes flickered over to the older woman he had been ignoring so far.
“Her? She’s `the Man’ up here?”
“Be-lieve or be dead,” the bartender said, flashing a tight smile. “You may have heard that someone called Max is running things. Well, that’s short for ‘Maxine,’ and that’s her. She’s got a piece of every casino on this station and is real good at keeping the tourists in and the competition out. I’ll tell you, C.H., if you start thinking about picking up some extra change with a bit of part-time larceny here on Lorelei, you don’t worry about the cops-you look over your shoulder for Max. She does hire free-lancers from time to time, by the way, but ain’t real tolerant of independents, if you know what I mean.”