That gave me time to think of something else. So when it finally halted, I pushed, Nepogat. The screen said, In the Mists of Time, Folk Legend 894M. (Bleep). Right back where I started. I quickly punched, Apparatus records, Fortress of Dar, relating to interrogation of crews of two freighters returned from Blito-P3. It said, In the Mists of Time, Folk Legend 894M. I quickly punched, Fortress of Dar, Manco. The computer said, If you are so interested in fables we suggest you consult a competent poet.
One way of saying it wasn't going to flash In the Mists of Time any more for this operator! And that also meant it was going to go off!
I had to get somethingthat might interest Heller. I punched, All surveys and surveillances Blito-P3 prior to one hundred years ago.
Ah, a speeding roll! They hadbeen surveying it for a long, long time! With a sigh of relief, I punched "Deliver copy."Promptly a series of papers started to spit out. And they spit out and they spit out! I hastily started to corral them before they inundated the whole console. It went on for minutes!
"You there!" screeched the old clerk. "You're going to run us out of paper! Quit it!" He stood over me positively squeaking! But there is no way of shutting the contraption off once it starts: computers can do no wrong. I was busy baling up the spit-outs. Gods, I would need a dolly!
Finally it quit. I thought the old clerk was going to hit me. But it had given me time to think. It's all very well to tell operators that they should know what they were going to ask before they begin to work a console. That doesn't allow for inspiration. And I had one!
It was moneythat made it possible for Heller to delay leaving. So long as he could buy guards, he had me at bay. If there was some way to run him out of money . . .
I held the old clerk off with one hand. I punched in, Jettero Heller. Financial standing and credit. The screen promptly flashed, Fleet officer pay. Engineer pay. Combat danger pay. See tables.
Ow, I thought. I don't need any tables. Heller, by just those items, received ten times my old General Service pay.
The machine said: Money disposition: does not spend much as usually on combat missions. Sends half his pay to mother and father for their support but they are moderately well-off and mother puts it in trust account for him: mother does same with money sent by his very wealthy sister Hightee Heller the Homeview star; rooms at Officers' Club gratis.
Ow, ow, I thought. Lots of money, far beyond the average junior officer.
Credit: very honorable about paying bills. No known debts. Totally trustworthy. Ow, ow, ow, ow! I thought. Bad show for me. And then the computer said something astonishing.
Credit rating: zero! Do not extend advances or credit to this officer.
I was really startled. The machine looked like it wasn't going to say any more so I pushed "Query."It said: Zero. Hazardous life. Combat engineers have average professional life expectancy of two years service: subject has exceeded this by triple; statistical demise grossly overdue; Fleet pays only terminal pay for symbolic funeral.
Well, that didn't leave me much option. I couldn't kill him here. And it didn't solve my problem as he wasstill alive and he didhave money.
Ho, ho! Big thought. If I could get the money he had away from him he would be broke.
The old clerk had sort of gone into apathy and wasn't struggling so much so I punched in, Any bad financial habits?
I wasn't very hopeful due to what the computer had already said. The machine flashed: Gambles on occasion. Dice and other games. Common to officers in danger categories. Not listed as a negative because by tax records he usually wins games of chance.
I had it! Right there! Heller gambled! Aha! Some guards had come in by that time to see what the commotion had been all about. I gave them a masterly handling. I said, "I'm leaving at once!"
Chapter 7
I was utterly elated. I was sure I had found Heller's fracture! Gambling!
If I could get all of his money away from him, he wouldn't be able to bribe the guards, the Countess would no longer be brought to my room, he would simply leave for the mission in disgust. No threat from Crown inspectors, no further danger from Lombar. Perfect!
I broke all records getting to my town office. I went tearing through my desk and there it was, in the bottom under the secret panel.
Two months before, one of the Section 451 clerks had been killed in a gambling row. He was trying to bet with counterfeit money but in going through his effects I had found a little dice bag. I had almost passed it by but, knowing the clerk, I examined them.
The six twelve-sided dice appeared perfectly normal. But they were hollow. A densimeter showed that the hollow was lined with a sticky substance and contained a lead pellet. By turning upward the number you wanted and giving the die a slight jolt, the lead pellet was momentarily stuck in the goo. When you threw the die, of course the weight would make the chosen number come up.
Old Bawtch, the chief clerk, wanted to know what I was doing there. I gave him a copy of my new appointments and instead of congratulating me, he shook his head sadly. He said, "Now I know everything is going to Hells." Nobody can get along with Bawtch.
The roaring heat of the Great Desert scorched my airbus but I did not even mind. I landed in an explosion of dust at Camp Kill. I sprinted to Snelz's cave. I was running so fast his door sentry hardly had time to leap up. But it was daylight and he let me by.
Snelz was lying back on his bed, hands folded behind his head. A not too bad-looking prostitute was putting some food on the table: she had on a new dress and looked like she was a permanent fixture. Food, his own woman; Snelz was doing all right for himself!
They both flinched when they saw who it was.
I pointed at the prostitute. "Get outside and don't listen at the door."
"Don't break my hand!" she said. But it was more a sneer than terror. The camp riffraff never learn. She spat on the floor in front of me and left. Maybe the other whore had been a friend of hers. Funny people, whores.
"Snelz," I said, "you are doing all right now, but you are going to be wealthy." He was instantly on his guard.
"How much money does Heller have left?"
"Oh, no," he said. "He's a nice guy. Don't seek my help in robbing him."
"No, no. Just tell me." He figured for a bit. "He hasn't spent much really. A credit goes a long way here. He's only spent about two hundred credits."
"Means he must have eight hundred left," I said. "And youare going to win it off him." As an afterthought, I said, "And split with me, of course." Snelz has a very suspicious mind. I got out the bag of dice. I arranged them in my palm so the 12s were all up. I gave my knuckles a rap on the table and threw them. They all came up twelve.
Snelz said, "Weighted dice! And what happens to my head after he knocks it off? That guy can fight!Also, if you have a set of dice weighted to always come up 12s, you have to do an under-the-table switch with another set and I'm not that good at palming."
"Snelz," I said, "this is a modern world. Science advances. Don't you trust me?"
"No." I picked up the six dice, cupped my palms over them and shook them and then threw again. The lead pellets inside had let loose, of course. I threw. The dice came up with random numbers.
The platoon commander looked at them in confusion. He thought I must have palmed in another set. So he did it. He put them, all twelve up in his palm, knocked the back of his knuckles, threw and got all 12s. Then he shook them and threw and got random numbers.