Jack Chalker - Kaspar's Box

“Yes, sir?”

“Let’s get on with our business,” she said, and the two of them walked crisply away from the other four and were quickly gone down the escalator at the far end of the station.

Although there were some informally dressed commuters around waiting for the next train, they were otherwise alone on the platform.

Irish O’Brian asked innocently, “Where do we go now, Captain?”

Murphy sighed. “I’ve half a mind to just leave you here on the platform meself,” he muttered in reply, “but then I might not ever get paid and you’ll pull some of that blasted witchcraft and the locals’ll all be comin’ lookin’ for me to blame and pay damages.” He sighed in resignation, and the color began to go back to almost normal. “All right, ladies. Follow me.”

The fact was, while he knew he had some credit left on Barnum’s World, which was, after all, one of his regular stops, he nonetheless wasn’t certain that he had enough to cover four people, three of whom would need practically everything, for a full week each. They were not too charitable here when it came to folks who ran out of money, and the last way he wanted to wind up was out on the street begging or stealing with these three in tow. He wished right now that he could access their power, whatever it was, as easily as whoever was on the other side of those damned gemstones did.

Well, there’s a thought, he considered as he led them to street level and then down the walk towards the hotel area. Either whoever that is on the other side of them things better damned well pony up or we’ll hock one of ’em little sons of bitches. Should bring a tidy sum, particularly on the black market here. Real Magi stones. Not bad.

He stopped at an information kiosk on the street and checked his credit. It was better than he thought, but no retirement stipend. If it was more than a week here, or anything unexpected came up, he might well be in some trouble getting started again without going on the grift. Not that he hadn’t done that many times, but he was getting too old for that shit, and it would have to play out here, on a world he’d just love to get off of as quickly as possible.

The fancier the place, the more real humans you dealt with. Not that they were much better than machines, but at least they made you feel like it mattered.

“Your— daughters, sir?” The clerk tried mightily not to sound dubious.

“Aye, can’t you tell by the accents?” he asked the man. “What do you take me for? A dirty old man? Hell’s bells, man! You can see that they already been knocked up, all three of ’em!”

The clerk looked embarrassed and tried clearing his throat. “Oh, yes, sir. Please don’t think I was suggesting something untoward here. I apologize.” Money was money and, in fact, the clerk probably didn’t give a damn if Murphy was a dirty old man and the father of all three forthcoming children. Barnum’s World was used to the unconventional; indeed, it had been settled by and, outside the more structured city environment, still was inhabited by some of the least conventional people humanity had left. So unconventional that if the old man had introduced them as his wives or companions there would have been less of a surprise. There was always a kind of reaction to robbing the cradle, though.

“Luggage, sir?”

Murphy chuckled. “We was just dropped here cold by them damned navy tax police. They even charged us for the clean clothes! It’s only good luck that I have credit accounts here that them bums can’t touch! No, no luggage. But I hope to heaven we’ll have some goin’ out! Me, I’ll be here only a few days, until me daughters’ families come pick them up.”

“They are local here, sir?”

“No, but they’re here now. Nosy sort for a spaceport concierge, ain’t you? Are ye a hotel man or a cop?”

The hotel rep was looking nervous and uncomfortable. “Oh, I work for the hotel, sir! Just making idle conversation while the room is checked.” He looked down at a panel in front of him and seemed visibly relieved. “Ah, yes! It’s ready now, sir. Just a moment and I’ll take you up to your room and show you the features.”

“No, I know the features. Just tell me which room and we’ll go up and let you know if it ain’t suitable,” the captain told him. The fellow probably was just hotel personnel, but he wouldn’t blink twice at feeding some tidbit of information to the local cops or maybe even the local crooks if it was worth his while. Murphy knew the type. All the fancy clothes in the world couldn’t disguise a grifter. In some ways he preferred this type. More his kind of people, and sure a lot better than the ones who were part of some damned religious group. Those types made him nervous.

They went up to the room, which was also keyed to his right index finger and right eyeball patterns, and it was a very nice room. Almost too nice, Murphy thought, looking around. With a bedroom and spacious furnished parlor, he felt that a level of privacy might be maintained here while not interfering much with comfort. Even the couch seemed luxurious when compared to those shuttle hammocks.

The women, too, seemed to like the look of the suite, and investigated every square millimeter of the place and all the buttons and voice command gadgetry available. Most popular was the huge bathroom, with its whirlpool-style tub and huge well-stocked vanity. He let them have their fun; he suspected that soon they’d find things more drudgery and sleepless nights, and they might as well enjoy this while they could.

For some reason, he felt tired, almost drained of energy, in spite of having spent so many days doing nothing at all. Some might have suggested that it was the copious amount of whiskey he’d consumed during that period that might have been catching up with him, but his old Irish soul rejected that as somehow unmanly. Still, this pretty room was costing a fortune and it seemed criminal not to use it, particularly since he was stuck until he could unload the girls. In the meantime, they seemed so taken with the bath and such, and so lively and awake, he thought he could take the opportunity to simply crash on top of that big bed with the satiny spread while they played their games. Kicking off his shoes, he went into the bedroom and plopped down on top of it. The sensation was so wonderful he was asleep in less than a minute.

He didn’t know how long he slept, but he awoke suddenly, sitting up on the bed wide awake as if cold water had been splashed on his face. He was surprised to find that he was actually in the bed, and that the covers had been pulled up over him, but he was much more startled to see that it was almost dark.

And silent.

Pushing off the covers, he got up and walked out into the parlor, suddenly worried about what those girls were up to while he’d slept. The lights came on as he walked through, and what was most disturbing of all was the fact that nothing seemed to be out of kilter. Everything was as fresh and undisturbed as when they’d entered, and although the sumptuous bath had been clearly used, there was no sign of the ones who’d used it.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” he swore aloud. “Them girls is out in this town in nothin’ more’n bathrobes and sandals and no experience with the denizens of civilization at all!”

He immediately left the room and took the lift down to the reception area. No sign of them there, either, nor of the concierge who’d checked them in, but hotel reception people were there. None could remember seeing three young women of those descriptions or any other descriptions pass through the area since they’d been on duty, and some had been there all afternoon.