Seek and ye shall find . . . trouble, more often than not!

-Vark of Bleak The question was, who had killed the hust called Pearl? Jesti knew he hadn't.

That still left a lot of other candidates. Finding the right one might take a little doing. So, tonight he walked Oddford's s.p.a.ceport streets. Jestikhan Churt, fresh from a brain-drain, fresh from the local lockbox, and fresh from Yahna Golden. His hate for the golden woman still seethed in him, a living thing.

He knew that he had meant his threat: sooner or later he would find her, match her rape for rape: her body for his brain. Thereby making me . . . what? He wondered. Soberly. Not grinning. Jestikhan Churt, pacing through Oddford, planetary capital of Croz.

A fragment from the brain-drain came back to him. Something one of Eilong's Elders had argued in the course of one of Jesti's early examinations.

"A dangerous man," the longbeard had insisted. ''Subversive at the very least. A menace to all that stands for Eilong and to every man who stands against him."

Jesti wondered. Was he really that bad, that dangerous? Or was he just another Eilan miner dyed purple from kiracat?

48.49.It's a good time to find out.

The entrance to the Labyrinth lay ahead, in ugly darkness. Jesti turned and took the cablelift down the shaft to the bar. The Baltilana. It was empty this time of day. The (human) bartender had even run out of pla.s.ses to polish. He stood leaning against the backbar, head tilted up and to one side as if in reverie. The holocube was in the other direction.

Jesti strode toward him. The sound of his footsteps alerted the lounging man. One glimpse of Jesti imparted a greenish cast to his face. He moved off down the bar. His effort to appear casual came off as ludicrous. And Jesti kept right on beaming.

"Hey, I'll bet you didn't know me without my hair. It do make a difference, don't it!"

The barman made an incoherent sound and moved farther away.

"You know," Jesti said confidentially, following him on his side of the bar, "I liked that hair of mine. Matter of fact I'd still have it, if it hadn't been for you."

That brought a mumble. It took Jesti about three seconds to vault the bar, come down quietly, and cheerfully cuff the fellow lightly on the arm.

"h.e.l.lo again."

The bartender had no choice but to face him. His eyes showed fright.

Jesti grinned. "What say we have a drink?"

"Sure, firm!" The man's fingers were all thumbs as he made a business of wiping off the polished glaze. "What, ah, what'll it be?"

"Got any orbisette?"

The very word seemed to have a bad effect on the barman. But, "Coming up," he said, and started to set out a pla.s.s.

"No pla.s.s," Jesti said. "Let's have the whole pottle."

The other man reached one from the shelf and set it down before his accoster. Fumbling a knife from beneath the bar, he snipped the seal.

"Good, good," Jesti beamed. "Let's have that drink now. What's your name, anyhow?"

50.The barman pointed to the tag on his shirt. Achmet, it read. One of a million. Millions. Meanwhile he again started to reach for a pla.s.s.

Jesti caught his hand. It was sweaty. Jesti said, "No pla.s.s, Achmet."

"Huh-" .

Jesti kept on beaming. "You're drinking first. The whole pottle, Achmet."

"Th-the whole p-" Achmet choked. "Grabbles, Mirza, that'd kill me."

"Could be," Jesti said cheerfully. "A lot less than that very nearly killed me, last night." He picked up the ordinary knife with which Achmet had snipped the pottle's seal and tested its point and blade with his little finger. (He'd seen a man test a blade with his thumb, once, and cut himself. Stupid, Jestikhan Churt thought, and remembered.) "Get started, friend Achmet."

The barman began to shake. Visibly. "What-what is it you want?" He seemed to have trouble getting the words out.

Jesti grinned. "I want you to drink a pod of orbisette." He had a notion that his pause was made the more sinister by the very fact that he was still grinning. "Or, of course, you could give me some answers." He studied the knife.

"Wha-wha' kinduv answers?"

"Answers about a hust named Pearl who worked out of here, Achmet-t."

The barman's pallor was nothing less than frightening, now. "I-don't-didn'--know 'er."

"Don't give me that!"

Jesti spat the words. Immediately he seized Achmet by the jacket and jerked him so close their noses were nearly touching. The knife's point went tight against the fellow's throat, just enough to break the skin. A thin trickle of blood oozed.

"She was here," Jesti said, grin and cheerful tone gone, "and I was with her. Saved her! I want to know what happened. All about her. Now."

If the bartender at Baltilana had been afraid before, terror rode his shoulder now. His cheeks sagged. His lips 51.quivered. His hands flapped at the knife in small, frantic gestures that mirrored his panic while not quite touching the blade.

"I-I-".

"Who was she, Achmet?"

"I-don' know. I m-mean-Tao's b.a.l.l.s, she 'us just a hust. From Thebanis, I think. Some bas'ard ditched 'er here. Sometimes I'd slice 'er-free, I mean-so I'd let 'er hang around the place, you know? Or pa.s.s her some hypno to slip a loaded mark. She'd cut me in. You know how't is . . ."

Jesti twisted the man's jacket even tighter. "What about last night?"

"I don' know. Honest. She come in early, actin' funny. Smirking, sort uv, like she was onto something. Said she needed orbisette, maybe half a pod. Already spiked."

"Uh. After that?"

"I give it to her 'n' she didn' say nothing. Jus' took the pod up to her bowl. Tha.s.s all uh know. Really!"

The barman's neck was wet with sweat now. The trickle of blood from the knifepoint (which Jesti still held in place) smudged greasily in it. Breathing hard, Achmet licked his lips.

"Look, she was waitin' fa you, I guess. Tha.s.s the first time she'd came down. Then the two of you wen' back up. Tha.s.s all I know. Everything, even i-if you c-cut me." His whole voice and body trembled.

Jesti had a mind to do just that. Cut him. Yet what would that accomplish? Nothing-except maybe to bring the policers back for a man they'd love to grab again. He thought about it for a moment. Then he released the barman's jacket. Achmet sagged, slumping against the backbar as if his legs wouldn't hold him. He had the look of a man who had stared death in the face so close that he still couldn't believe he was alive.

Jesti asked, "Who else did she know? Come on-help!"

Achmet shivered again. He regained control, visibly working at it. His shoulders drew up in a shrug, probably because he couldn't lift a hand to flip his fingers. Not at Death. He swallowed, also visibly.

52."It's like uh said. Uh don' know that much about 'er. She didn' have no reglar marks. She.wasn' that good a slice, y'know?"

Jestikhan stared. "You asking me?" And while Achmet swallowed, hard, Jesti went on, "Other girls? Friends?"

Achmet shook his head. "Th'other husts didn' like 'er. Uh mean, that Terasaki coil 'n' all-she jus' wasn' Croz. They thought she was tryina play top G.o.ddess, so they froze 'er. 'Cept Zanjol, maybe. She's from offplanet, too. Tula. Sometimes the pair of 'em sort uv got together."

Jesti stood very still. "Zanjol?"

"Ahh, try The Gallus. She's got those crazy Corper twists skindyed on 'er face-green. Guess what th'other husts thinka that! They call 'er the Green Jinkle-you know, like in not worth a. Tha.s.s why her and Pearl maybe got t'gether. Lissen, I'm really sorry they shaved yuh."

"Uh huh. Want to buy me a Terasaki coil? Never mind-take off that jacket-faster! Where's The Gallus, Achmet ole friend?"

Coming out of his jacket, Achmet told him. And: "They got a thing out front with a big noose on it. You know, like they useta hang people on. Gallus."

"Oh," Jesti said, slipping on the barman's jacket.

He had to ask directions three times, en route. (The jacket he got rid of at once. He kept only the little wad of money he'd felt in it.) Each time he received a "bonus" -alleged humor about nooses, murder, Poofing. Charming.

Those were just the jokes. Reality was worse.

Inside The Gallus, zithoons squealed graveyard music. Flickering lights cast horripilating shadows of swinging "corpses." Like jungle vines, a curtain of nooses dangled from the ceiling. Waiters wore black hoods and were dressed as executioners. The bartender was . . . gray. A necrotic bluish gray. Hideous. Charming.

To get a drink, Jesti had to let an "executioner" loop one of the ropes about his neck. He didn't like that any better than the rest of it. Maybe because it came too close to home . . .

53.Still, I'm here, with a tenuous lead to Pearl. a.s.suming I can find the Green Jinkle!

He asked. Sure, they knew her-what'd he want her for? "I'm her long-lost brother, the Purple Tinkle. Our long-lost uncle just died and left us three million stells. Where is she?" He glanced about.

Some of them stared and a couple chuckled or giggled- uncertainly. They pointed. Booth in the corner. Drinking alone? Not trying to attract any taps? Frowning, he went that way, and just managed to get the frown off his face before he reached the booth. He turned, showed the bartender two fingers. Receiving a nod, Jesti slid into the booth.

She was short and chubby, with cat-green eyes and a chest on her like a soccer bajl cut in half and glued onto each side. Enhanced, surely. And yes, there were the snaky green cheek-and-forehead traceries good ole Achmet had mentioned. Subcutaneous dye, definitely. Both hands around the pla.s.s of something she was nursing, the Green Jinkle was leaking a lot of tears.

"Drink it, Zanjol. I ordered us another."

"Why? Who're you?" She looked up, swollen of eye. "Great b.a.l.l.s of Musla! What a dye-job-purple! You must-hey. You called me by name."

He nodded. "Because-oh, dammit!" The waiter interrupted, pretending to garrote while setting down the two drinks. Jesti glowered him away and pushed one over to Zanjol. "I'd call you Akima," he said, and noted that she didn't simper. He nodded. "I see you know."

"Know?"

"I called you Zanjol because Pearl did. She-" He paused. She had snapped him a wild stare. Then she s.n.a.t.c.hed up her drink and drained it all. She looked at the new pla.s.s, while tears rushed and she made choky-sobby noises.

"I was with her last night. Saved her from some s.p.a.cefarer named, uh, Karim, and two others. Bet you heard about that, hmm. We went up and I drank something called orbisette and pa.s.sed out. When I woke, I was in jail. Jail, Zanjol. Someone had murdered Pearl and 54.pinned it on me. A psychist proved I didn't have anything to do with it." He touched his dome. "That's what happened to my hair. The flainers had to shave me to-to mind-wipe me."

She was staring. "That's the d.a.m.ndest c.o.c.k-and-b.a.l.l.s story I ever heard, jacko."

"Name's Jesti. Jes-tee-khan Churt. Here. My clean bill of health from your robed local s.a.d.i.s.ts-excuse-me-policers. Sounds like a bulls.h.i.t story to me too, Zanjol. But someone killed that nice kid, and that same someone really set me up. I want him. If the policers ask, you know you'll tell them all about him. What about me? I want to go after the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Zanjol.''

She stared at him. Her plump body slumped, seemed to shrink. Her mouth moved soundlessly, opening and shutting. Those green eyes filled and overflowed tears onto green-traced skin. The tears weren't green. After another second, her face collapsed. Green subcutane traceries folded in on each other like the shriveling of an old lime in the sun. Her voice was a whisper.

"Saw her . . . saw her yes-yesterday. Afternoon. She was too high to talk much. Claimed she was redshiftin' for The-Thebanis. Loved that dam' planet!" She sniffled, choked, tried hard, fought it back. "Showed me the pa.s.s. Some . . . some man was going to pay her way."

"Not a purple one, hmm?"

She shook her head, looking into her drink. "She was supposed to do a job for him," she quavered out, and Jesti's belly muscles went taut. "Don't ask. She wouldn't even talk about it. Not even to me-e-e." She wept some more.

Meanwhile Jesti's belly muscles were .tight enough to hurt. He had a feeling that he was . . . almost . . . onto something. Something. What? Who!

"It-it had her sort of lobbied," Zanjol got out. "He-he was like out of a holomeller, she said. Only more so. That good-lookin', I mean."

"A super-handsome man," he said. "Uh. He have a name, this handsome b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"

55."She-she didn't say. If she knew, she wouldn't say. She-"

"He promised her big cred to do something for him. Something that involved me, Zanjol. I want to know what, and why. And why he left me to pay the price. The psychist was just luck. Otherwise I might be here for life-in jail. No name?"

She stared. "That's it. I don't want to talk about her anymore-I don' want to talk to you anymore. Go, purple man. I yell, you're in a lotta trouble. Go. She's d . . . ead, and I got a livin' to make."

Jesti stared at her long enough to make her look down. Then he left.

Tendrils of memory left from the brain-drain a.s.sured him that possessions hadn't been-Pearl's long suit. The policers had not found any pa.s.s or big cred. Zanjol said Pearl had talked Thebanis. Home. Zanjol said she had seen an offplanet pa.s.s. Jesti thought on that as he hit the street.

Pa.s.ses don't just vanish and I don't have it. Pearl' s was gone. So-someone took it. Who? Easy-the same man who gave it to her in the first place. Somebody so handsome he belongs in the holomellers! Uh. And maybe the same man who killed her, to frame me for her death?-not to mention taking samples of my blood and s.e.m.e.n. For what? Why?

For some reason-because I'm an Eilan, not because I'm me. I'd bet on it.

Great. If only any of it made sense!

It didn't, and that was what made it so maddening. In turn, that left Jestikhan Churt no choice but to keep on with his probing. He had to dig deeper, and then deeper, until he learned something. The truth! d.a.m.n it-because I have to know!

Grimly, he turned in the direction of the shuttle station. In charge he found a thin, pallid Crozer in a blue jallabah. The fellow seemed to have no time for hairless Eilans. The ring that circled his pineal eye was white.

"Is it true," Jesti asked conversationally, "that a Crozer's middle eye gives him the power of second sight? Can he read minds with it?"

56.The Crozer didn't answer. All his attention remained on the routine of his work. Or so he wanted it to seem.

Jesti sighed. "Neg-that's ridiculous. Can't be so. I should know better." He put on a warm and friendly grin. "Because if you could read minds you'd know how I feel about being ignored and what's going to happen to that eye of yours in another sec or three."

He leaned across the counter as he spoke, and let his hand fall on a spiked marker weight. His hand closed. He picked it up, hefted it thoughtfully, still studying the man from Croz. And saying nothing.

A visible nervousness came on the Crozer. He seemed to be having difficulty getting the extra joints of his fingers to behave.

"All I want," Jesti said gently, "is information. Has any s.p.a.cer cleared for Thebanis since last night?"

For a few sees, he thought blue-robe wasn't going to reply. Then words came, in an uncertain voice so low Jesti could barely hear: "Nothing direct. You have to go by way of Jasbir.''

"So did anything clear for Jasbir?"

"Uh. Pos. Early this morning. A merchanter."