Deathworld

by Harry Harrison

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"I don’t know what you have in mind," he said. "But you realize I can’t make any guarantees. I gamble—but I don’t always win…"

"You gamble—and you win when you want to," Kerk said grimly. "We looked into that quite carefully before I came to you."

"If you mean to say that I cheat—" Carefully, Jason grabbed his temper again and held it down. There was no future in getting annoyed.

Kerk continued in the same level voice, ignoring Jason’s growing anger. "Maybe you don’t call it cheating, frankly I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned you could have your suit lined with aces and electromagnets in your boots. As long as you won. I’m not here to discuss moral points with you. I said I had a proposition."

"We have worked hard for that money—but it still isn’t enough. To be precise, we need three billion credits. The only way to get that sum is by gambling—with these twenty–seven million as bankroll."

"And what do I get out of it?" Jason asked the question coolly, as if any bit of the fantastic proposition made sense.

"Everything above the three billion you can keep, that should be fair enough. You’re not risking your own money, but you stand to make enough to keep you for life if you win."

"And if I lose—?"

Kerk thought for a moment, not liking the taste of the idea. "Yes—there is the chance you might lose, I hadn’t thought about that."

He reached a decision. "If you lose—well I suppose that is just a risk we will have to take. Though I think I would kill you then. The ones who died to get the twenty–seven million deserve at least that." He said it quietly, without malice, and it was more of a promise than a threat.

Stamping to his feet Jason refilled his stein and offered one to Kerk who took it with a nod of thanks. He paced back and forth, unable to sit. The whole proposition made him angry—yet at the same time had a fatal fascination. He was a gambler and this talk was like the taste of drugs to an addict.

Stopping suddenly, he realized that his mind had been made up for some time. Win or lose—live or die—how could he say no to the chance to gamble with money like that! He turned suddenly and jabbed his finger at the big man in the chair.

"I’ll do it—you probably knew I would from the time you came in here. There are some terms of my own, though. I want to know who you are, and who they are you keep talking about. And where did the money come from. Is it stolen?"

Kerk drained his own stein and pushed it away from him.

"Stolen money? No, quite the opposite. Two years' work mining and refining ore to get it. It was mined on Pyrrus and sold here on Cassylia. You can check on that very easily. I sold it. I’m the Pyrric ambassador to this planet." He smiled at the thought. "Not that that means much, I’m ambassador to at least six other planets as well. Comes in handy when you want to do business."

Jason looked at the muscular man with his gray hair and worn, military–cut clothes, and decided not to laugh. You heard of strange things out in the frontier planets and every word could be true. He had never heard of Pyrrus either, though that didn’t mean anything. There were over thirty–thousand known planets in the inhabited universe.

"I’ll check on what you have told me," Jason said. "If it’s true, we can do business. Call me tomorrow—"

"No," Kerk said. "The money has to be won tonight. I’ve already issued a check for this twenty–seven million, it will bounce as high as the Pleiades unless we deposit the money in the morning, so that’s our time limit."

With each moment the whole affair became more fantastic—and more intriguing for Jason. He looked at his watch. There was still enough time to find out if Kerk was lying or not.

"All right, we’ll do it tonight," he said. "Only I’ll have to have one of those bills to check."

Kerk stood up to go. "Take them all, I won’t be seeing you again until after you’ve won. I’ll be at the Casino of course, but don’t recognize me. It would be much better if they didn’t know where your money was coming from or how much you had."