Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

My table was crowded because I had been buying drinks and drugs all night, paying courtesans to sit next to me and look pretty, and listening to guys tell their latest exploits of daring-do. I liked listening to people’s stories and that’s good, because people love telling them. There’s almost nothing folks like more than talking about themselves.

While there wasn’t a star or planet Belvaille orbited, and thus no designated night and day, for convenience and maybe just to avoid plain loneliness, most people stuck to the same clock and it was indeed very late. The playful banter was gone and nothing was left but the dead stares of hardcore gamblers and my own thoughts to keep me company.

I had wasted enough money so I passed a few credits to the dealer and waved good-bye. People came and shook my hand, said they’d tele me later, got some chaste kisses on the cheek. I was just tired and feeling a bit down.

One of the casino owner’s private guards came by as I was nearing the door.

“Hey, if you got a minute, the boss would like a word.”

If Tamshius qua-Froyeled asks if you got a minute, you usually give it. He was the biggest of the big bosses on the station and one of my most regular employers. I can’t count the number of jobs I had done for him over the decades.

“Sure,” I said, swinging over gamely to follow the guard.

He took me down a dark corridor I had walked many times before. It was extremely narrow and long. The purpose was that if the casino was ever attacked, his assailants would have to line up single file and be easy targets for fifty yards.

The guard knocked on the door and an elderly voice from inside bid us enter.

“Hank,” Tamshius said happily as he strode across the magnificent room to greet me. Tamshius’ office was decorated with artwork and antique weapons from his home planet.

Lots of primitive firearms and pictures of women with outrageous makeup. The man himself was old and thin and had tufts of white hair on the sides of his head that were styled to stick out like squares. He wore rich gold and blue robes and his fingernails were painted with bright, reflective colors.

“Tamshius, it’s good to see you,” I said. Colmarians were very forgiving with names as a necessity. I couldn’t pronounce Tamshius’ last name anywhere near how it was supposed to be pronounced, my vocal chords not being properly designed for the task. But I could at least get close with his first name, so that’s how I addressed him.

As simple as my name was, I was often called variations of “Han,” “Yank,” “An,” “Kank,” and things in between. I didn’t care.

The guard left us, closing the door, and Tamshius handed me a bottle.

“A small gift, since you’ve honored us with your presence at my casino.”

The booze was very classy stuff. It was worth maybe a hundred credits on the station.

“Thank you, Tamshius,” I said, bowing. “You are gracious in your hospitality.” I didn’t understand Tamshius’ culture at all. It seemed stuffy and overly polite at times, while incredibly offensive at others. But everyone was a refugee on Belvaille, and if you could evoke a person’s home traditions it could go a long way in putting you in their good graces.

“I wished to talk to you of a matter close to my heart and disturbing to my mind,” Tamshius said. “If you have a moment could you sit with me?”

“Of course,” I said, and sat in the chair he indicated. He too sat down, not behind his imposing desk, as most bosses would, but in a seat next to me. One of purposely lesser quality than the seats he provided for his guests.

“There is a man by the name of Oluviastian-Jos…,” he began, waiting for me.

“I know him,” I said after deciphering the accented name.

“…who in the manner of gambling, has come to owe me a sum of money I consider to be prohibitive.”

“May I enquire the total?”

“80,000,” he said flatly.

I flinched, as I already understood the problem.

“Oluv-Jos will not be able to repay that amount,” I said.

While I might hit the jackpot now and then and get jobs like today that paid me many thousands of credits, most regulars had a real job with a steady salary. Oluv-Jos probably wasn’t paid that in an entire year.

“I was afraid of that,” Tamshius said.

“How was he given that much of a tab?” I asked. “Your dealers should know who he is and what he can foot.”

“I have spoken to the parties and it seems to have been a legitimate error in judgment. I have taken necessary actions. What are your recommendations on this?”

This was why I liked Tamshius. He did his thing, he trusted me to do mine. I came in here and felt like he treated me like an expert, not a glorified trash man.

“Oluv-Jos works for Ddewn. Either Ddewn takes over the debt or you try and collect from Oluv-Jos. Either case I see as unlikely. Ddewn will not want to see his boy be under your thumb, but he will be even less interested in personally owing you money.”

Tamshius scratched his chin thoughtfully, his multicolored fingernails glittering.

“Will he be prepared to go to war to protect this situation?”

I really had to think about this. Up until now it was fine being tired and hazy, but now I couldn’t just make from-the-hip pronouncements. I sat there mulling for a good few minutes.

Ddewn was another boss, a big one. He had a lot of very rough guys in his employ and controlled turf other people wouldn’t touch. He was not a pleasant man even as gang bosses went.

“I think he will fight,” I said. “If he can save face, there may be ways out of it. At the moment nothing comes to mind.”

“Thank you for your most candid response. It is times like these I truly value the breadth of your wisdom.” Tamshius bowed.

“I think you’re the only person on Belvaille who accuses me of being smart,” I answered.

“You underestimate yourself. I also heard you did some work today for the one known as Zadeck.”

“That’s right.”

“An important man?” It was a question laden with subtlety. I wanted to be careful here. My motto of never taking sides certainly applied to people I worked for. I could give the facts, but I didn’t want to give information that Zadeck would consider unfaithful.

“He is growing in importance,” I answered delicately.

“Do you think it prudent for me to eliminate him as a concern? Especially if there may be a coming storm with Ddewn.”

I exhaled and thought about this.

“In addition to Wallow, I believe he has some support from Garm,” I cautioned.

“Bah.” Tamshius waved his hand dismissively and his pleasant brow furrowed. “People speak her name like children fearing robots. She can be killed like any other.”

This was quite a surprising sentiment. Tamshius was usually very controlled, but perhaps there had been some recent fallout between him and Garm.

“With all due respect, I have lived through four Adjuncts, a Lance Major, and for a few years, Common Rule. By far the best leader for Belvaille has been Garm. And she’s easy on the eyes.”

“Yes, I know,” Tamshius said dejectedly. “Do you know that Adjunct Overwatch Monhsendary tried to have me murdered?”

“Yes, I was there.”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “I am forgetting who I am speaking with.”

Tamshius stood up, so I did as well.

“Again, I want to thank you for your help,” Tamshius said, bowing.

“My pleasure.” I bowed back.

“If I may enquire, how much did you spend tonight at my facility?”

I sighed deeply, mostly because I didn’t want to remember it.

“10,000.”

“To the exact credit?” he asked curiously.

I checked my tele.