“After the fat woman with the white hair leaves the table, the next three winners will be 31, then 9, then 11.”
“31, 9 and 11?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“Then come back to the bar and I'll tell you where my friend is. I can't let them see me talking to him.”
“Them? Who is them?”
Penelope touched her right ear, as September Morn picked up a winning hand and King Tout stared across the room at her.
“Go away now,” she whispered. “I've talked to you too long already.”
The young man looked around the room once more, trying to spot whoever it was that the little girl was afraid of, then walked casually to the roulette table. A moment later an overweight, white-haired woman got up and left, and he watched in silence as the wheel spun and the ball landed on 31. Finally he edged his way closer to the colorfully-dressed man and whispered something to him. The larger man stared at him curiously for a moment, then shrugged and placed a large bet on number 9.
He collected his winnings, then put another pile on chips on number 11. When the ball landed there, he whispered something to the young man, who made his way back to the bar, pausing to briefly observe a couple of poker games and a jabob table along the way.
He stopped about eight feet away from Penelope, leaned against the bar, and spoke softly while staring at the store of liquor bottle directly in front of him.
“Okay, little lady,” he said softly, “you've got yourself a deal.” He paused. “One condition, though.”
Penelope knew what the condition was, but asked anyway.
“He wants two more winners.”
“After he rescues my friend.”
“Uh-uh,” said the man. “We blast our way into a ship, we may have to leave in one hell of a hurry. He wants the numbers now.”
“There's a man with a gold tooth sitting at the table. After he wins, the next two numbers will be 2 and 29.”
“I'll be right back.”
The young man relayed the information to his employer, then returned to his position at the bar.
“All right,” he said. “If they're winners, we're in business.” He paused. “Tell me about your friend.”
“Her name is Mouse,” said Penelope.
“Mouse?” repeated the young man. “I hate to think of what she looks like.”
“She's very pretty,” said Penelope defensively.
“Where is she?”
“On King Tout's ship.”
“King Tout? Who is he?”
“He's playing cards in the middle of the room.”
“Before I turn to look, tell me how I can recognize him. It's a damned crowded room.”
“September Morn's with him.”
“That doesn't help.”
“She's an alien. There's water in her suit.”
“A water-breather? I didn't see one when I walked through the room.”
“She doesn't breathe it, but she has to run it all over her body.”
“Okay, that should do it.”
The young man turned slowly, his eyes scanning the room, then went back to his original position, staring at the back of the bar.
“All right. Is there anyone else in on this besides King Tout and the alien?”
“There's a man on the ship.”
“And that's it—just the three of them?”
“And my friend.”
“Has the ship got a name?” asked the man, as the first of the two numbers Penelope had given him came up.
“I don't know its name.”
“Registration number?”
“I don't know.”
“I hope you don't expect us to force our way into every damned ship that's docked out there.”
“I can describe it to you and tell you where it's docked,” said Penelope.
“Why don't you just come along and point it out to me?”
“Because if I leave with you, the Golden Duke will kill my friend before we get there.”
“The Golden Duke?” repeated the man. “I've heard of him.”
The second number won.
“All right,” said the man. “Tell me how to find the ship.”
Penelope described its shape, size and location.
“Next time you see me, walk out of here through that doorway down by the dice tables,” said the man.
“Don't take too long,” said Penelope.
“We're rescuing you and your friend,” answered the man irritably. “Isn't that enough?”
“There's someone else after us,” said Penelope. “They'll be here before long.”
“What the hell did you two do—rob the Treasury on Deluros VIII?”
“We didn't do anything,” said Penelope heatedly.
The colorfully-clad man picked up his winnings from the roulette table, stopped at a cashier's window, and walked out of the room without glancing in their direction.
“Time to go to work,” said the man. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”
“Please be careful,” said Penelope.
The man smiled sardonically. “It's thoughtful of you to worry about me.”
“Be careful that the Golden Duke doesn't hurt my friend.”
“He may be a killer, but he's not crazy,” said the man. “When he knows what he's up against, he'll release her without a fight.”
“Sometimes he will, sometimes he won't,” said Penelope.
“What are you talking about? We're only going to rescue her once.”
“Just make sure that my friend doesn't get hurt.”
“We'll do our best.”
“You'd better.”
He chuckled. “Or what?”
“Or you'll be very sorry,” said Penelope with such conviction that the man's smile vanished. He stared at her for another moment, wondering uneasily what he was getting into, then shrugged and left the casino.