Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Basketful of Crap

“Ah, so that’s why you guys were always fighting.”

Tamshius qua-Froyeled had been the biggest gang leader on old Belvaille back when Garm was the official Adjunct Overwatch. The fact they disliked each other caused quite a few problems.

“I don’t like him because he’s an arrogant chauvinist who thinks we’re living back on his home world. But if anyone has a spy network here it’s him. He always seemed to know what I was doing. And still does.”

“Won’t hurt to ask. I always liked him.”

Tamshius was no longer a big boss like he had been, but he’d managed to keep several casinos, some restaurants, and clubs.

I waited in the lobby of one of his casinos. Despite the riots, things looked undisturbed except a general increase in security.

One of the guards finally came over to me. I didn’t know him.

“My brother died in your little assault on the corporation,” he said. He looked like he wanted me to mouth off.

“I’m sorry for your loss. None of it went as planned. We were tricked.”

The guard seemed to consider that and then waved me through. I had to take off my shoes to walk to the back office.

I was wearing my Therezian hair booties and they had a lot of lacing. It took me several minutes to get them undone and the guard came to check on me several times. Probably wondering if I didn’t know how to tie my shoes.

“Greetings, Hank. It has been far too long since you have honored my house.” Tamshius said, bowing.

He was an elderly man, thin, with splotched skin. He had tufts of white hair that stuck out like squares on the sides of his head. He was dressed in expensive cloth-of-gold robes that seemed to practically crush his tiny frame.

His office looked like a museum, with artwork, and weapons, and outfits from, I assumed, his home planet. I looked at them closer now because I just couldn’t see Garm being connected with anything remotely like that. It was all so formal and stylized. Sure, the two of them originated from different planets, but presumably they had some things in common being from the same solar system.

He lit an incense stick which had a particularly putrid aroma. I tried not to crinkle my nose.

I found Tamshius’s rituals more elaborate each time I visited. I wasn’t sure if it was because as he got older he felt more comfortable repeating what he grew up with, or he was inventing it as he went along.

He unfurled a mat left to right on the ground in front of me and right to left in front of him. He motioned to me as he sat down cross-legged.

I wasn’t sure I could sit like that. And I was less sure I could get back up.

“Um. Can I move this over?” I asked, indicating a small tree in a metal planter.

This took him by surprise, but he nodded.

I dragged it over, making a horrible racket.

I then positioned myself roughly above the mat and let her rip. I got my knees about halfway bent and then I fell on my back.

After considerable scooting around, I managed to get into a seated position. I held onto the planter with one hand and had one hand behind me holding me up.

Tamshius, as polite as he was, looked at a loss for words. Probably because I almost landed on him when I fell.

“So,” I started. “How have you been?”

“We live in trying times. But never has it not been thus.”

“Yeah. I suppose you heard the Portals are down. Maybe even completely destroyed.”

“It is a grave misfortune. I ponder what we have done to deserve such punishment.”

“Thing is, I might have an idea how to save us.”

“Hank,” he said, holding his hands together, “always you have been selfless in your services. Your sacrifices will surely earn you many rings in heaven.”

“Thank you. But let’s not get too far ahead. I may require your assistance,” I said carefully. I didn’t want to mention Garm’s name directly because it usually sent him into a fury.

“I am your humble servant if it may remove us from our current tribulations.”

“I need to find two women on the station.”

He cocked his head.

“Are they in my employ?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You may consult my staff, but I do not see how I could provide any insights beyond your own.”

“Well, they are Quadrad—”

Tamshius jumped to his feet, his face red. He started cussing in what I took to be his native tongue as he ran to his desk.

I figured he was going for a gun and I leaned on the pot to stand, but I knocked it over and fell on my back again.

Tamshius stood above me with an electrical device and it made various noises.

“Shh,” he said to me.

He walked around the room with the device as I kept trying to stand.

“The room is clear,” he said finally.

“Clear of what?”

“The Quadrad are an evil blight. Long have my people suffered their depredations. They are lacking in any nobility of spirit. I had to confirm you weren’t under surveillance.”

“Oh. So, I’m trying to find them because they have something of mine that…they have—”

“They stole it you mean! You do not have to honey your words, I know well their ways.”

“Sure, they stole it. And I think it might help us if we can get it back. I just can’t find them.”

Tamshius grew suspicious.

“How is it you knew to question me?”

“I was told you came from the same solar system. I hoped you might know of them.”

He relaxed back into anger.

“Oh, I know too greatly and at great cost. I may be able to assist you, but you must take Hor-kan shi-jo ,” he spat.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Our most solemn oath that you will not ever reveal the source of my help.”

“Sure.”

I held up my hand in a promise.

“It is a ceremony.”

Of course it was.

An hour later I was being fitted for robes. They had to be of a certain cloth harvested during a certain month from a certain region on his home world.

Several hours after that, in my new robes, I was kneeling next to a small brass idol with five hands and three heads. Tamshius walked slowly around the room lighting candles of various colors while chanting.

It occurred to me that he could be making all this up. Like once I left he would have a good belly laugh about having me do all this.

He still hadn’t told me anything and I had no clue what he was going to say. At the end he might go, “They have pale skin,” or something else I already knew.

Tamshius wrote the contract, asked me if I swore on my ancestors and my ancestral home.

I swore.

He then signed his name, pricked his hand with a six inch metal rod with two prongs and dabbed his blood on the contract.

Hmm.

I signed my name. I picked up my own metal rod. I poked myself with it and the prongs bent.

“Do I have to use this?” I asked.

“Shh,” he shushed me.

He rang a small gong and leaned in to whisper while it was still ringing.

“You may lance your genitals as well.”

“What?” How was that the next best solution?

He rang the gong again.

“It is a sign of sincere commitment,” he said.

“I’m not stabbing my private parts.”

Tamshius seemed disappointed. He then opened his mouth and pointed inside it, shrugging his shoulders.

I took the rod and tried to straighten the prongs. I poked my tongue, but it didn’t exactly want to stay still and my tongue was pretty tough. I put it against my gum where my cheek connected and jammed it, rubbing the area with my finger, but there was no blood.

I had a pale sister shove a dagger in my mouth and it didn’t do much. This little olive fork wasn’t going to cut me.

“Can I—” I reached over and flicked the gong with my finger, which I could see annoyed Tamshius, “can I use something else? This is too flimsy.”