Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business LMB Onevision: The Long Klordny

Night hung heavy over Legionopolis, like an old blanket doing its best to the keep the city covered against the bitter cold December wind cutting through the streets.

Through that unforgiving night, a solitary figure walked, holding close to whatever errant shadows offered themselves, making his way down the boulevard toward the towering building before him. A step at a time, he lurched forward with an odd gait, one shoulder hunched and his arm held tightly to his body.

Crossing the street toward the front doors of the building, suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a transport vehicle barreled around the corner. A horrible grinding echoed down the empty street as the driver quickly fired the reverse thrusters, stopping just inches from the man.

"Hey!" the driver shouted out, "Watch where you're walking! You trying to get yourself killed?"

As through he was only now noticing him, the man raised his bleary eyes toward the driver and - without saying a word - just continued walking.

"Moron!' the driver shouted, as he drove off in a rage.


Reaching the front door of the building, the man took a deep breath to gather his strength, then rapped on the polymer window.

"Sorry... " the elderly watchman shouted out, walking toward the door, annoyed that he had to interrupt the holo-news program he was watching, "...we're closed. You'll have to come back in the morni... oh!"

Suddenly recognizing the man, the watchman typed in the internal security code as the air-locked doors shushed open. "Heh. Didn't recognize you for a second there, Mr. Nihil. Did you forget your security code?"

"Something else else like that," Ex all but grunted.

"You working late tonight?"

"Late enough," Ex nodded toward the lift, "Come on... let's ride."

The two made their way inside of the airlift as the watchman said, "Level 22." He took in Ex's appearance. "Say... you don't look so hot, Mr. Nihil... sort of all in."

"I'm fine."

"The holo business keeping you pretty busy, eh?" Getting no response, he continued on, "I used to be in the holos myself... long time ago, though. More your dad's era, I'd think. I had to give it all up, though, on account of my rheumatism."

"Is that right?" Ex said, not really listening.

The lift came to a rest, as the watchman took the hint. "Here you are, sir... Level 22.'


Exnihil exited the lift and stumbled toward his office, breathing a sigh of relief that he was finally alone. Loosening his coat, he all but collapsed into his office chair.

Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he reached inside of his coat for a package of Cargitte trigarettes. He winced, as the movement caused his shirt to peel away from his skin, the semi-congealed blood of his wound opening up again and starting to bleed anew.

Tossing the packet on the desk, with his one good arm he shook a trigarette free and brought it to his lips. With a laborious effort, he lit it and breathed in deeply. He thought for a moment and then, with sudden determination, he reached across and flipped on his Omnicon. It came to life with a broadcasted voice.

"... all enjoying this holiday season, and keep it tuned right here. Up next: Kent Shakespeare's annual holiday toas..."

Ex hit the screen to shut off the broadcast and switch to record mode. He took another drag from his trigarette and, with a deep sigh, began speaking.


"Communique.

"December 25th, 3011.

"Exnihil to Legion World Security Office, Matlock.

"Dear Matt,

"I suppose you'll be wondering why I'm bothering to record this at all. Least of all to you. By the time you get this message I'll be long gone, anyway. Oh... not in the way your suspects usually try to go... taking it on the lam... I'm talking about a much longer trip... the kind where you don't need any ticket, and you definitely don't carry any baggage.

"I guess in some ways that will make your job easier. If you wanted, you could delete this message altogether. Pretend it never existed and tie up your case in a neat little bow... special delivery, R.I.P.

"But you wouldn't play it that way... of anybody here, I know you wouldn't... and that's why I I felt I owed you this much. Owed you the truth.

"You think you're a pretty hotshot detective... and maybe you are. You called it from the beginning. You said it was a conspiracy: check. You said it went deeper than anybody could see: check. You said it was murder... check."


Ex went to take a drag from his trigarette and suddenly realized it had gone out. He tossed it to the side and resumed.


"But you made a mistake, Matt. When it came to picking the killer, you picked the wrong guy. Oh, I know what you're going to say... that it's the same song I've been singing since Day One, and you're right. But sometimes... sometimes the truth can be the saddest song you'll ever play.

"I'm not going to sit here and try to convince you that my hands are totally clean... far from it. Sure... I wanted something, the same as anyone else. I was in it for two of the oldest reasons there are. I was in it for the money... and I was in it for a girl.

"Well... I didn't get the money. And... as you probably know better than anyone else... I didn't get the girl.

"It all started this past August..."

It was August 13th, 3011 to be exact.

Klordny.

That night when everybody and their brother takes to the streets, throwing back a few - and throwing out their inhibitions - supposedly in the name of "Freedom, Friendship and Frunt".

Well... I've learned a few things over the years: Nothing comes for free; a friend is just a word for somebody who wants something from you; and frunt? Well... the less said about that piece of nonsense, the better.


No - for me - Klordny has always been about one thing, and one thing only: closing the deal.


It's a night to see and be seen. A time to rub elbows with those people who have more money then sense, and try to get them to open up those purse strings just long enough to keep Exnihil Productions running for another year.

Sometimes, it's an easy job. Sometimes, you meet the ones going on about the "art" of it all. Saps, we call 'em. All that type really wants is to impress the other saps when their name shows up in the credits of some documentary about saving the Arcturian Octopods. Those are the easy ones, but they're few and far in between.

Most times, it's hell. Swallowing your pride, and doing things you never imagined yourself doing as you grub around for every last dime. The entertainment world is a seedy, backhanded affair where words like "pride" and "integrity" don't just have to take a back seat - they have to get tied up and gagged, locked in the trunk of a vehicle that's sinking to the bottom of a lake.

I'll let you take one guess which one this past Klordny was.


I sat at my usual table in the Overlook Room of Danny Blaine's Beacon Restaurant, deep into the bottom of my third martini, trying to sweet talk Director Lad into not flying the coop.

"Ex, I don't know, " he was saying, "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I just don't think I'm right for this project. I mean, come on... the Handsome Cartel?"

"The Handsome family, Sudro" I corrected him, still half-trying to convince myself. "The whole 'cartel' business is ancient history - put to bed when Molock Handsome died. The family has gone completely legit."

"That might be... but the public hears the name, 'Handsome,' and all they can think of is that Large Handsome and his brother Molock each basically terrorized the galaxy as the super-villain, Middlefinger."

"Yeah... but that's the hook! For years, the Handsome name has been synonymous with crime, right? Now... what happens with the younger generation? How do they overcome that? Here they are... with more money than they know what to do with, trying to make a name for themselves that doesn't immediately make the world think of their parents. We call it, 'Growing Up Handsome.' The public would eat up a show like that."

"And that's the other thing, Ex," Director Lad said, "Another Reality Holo? That's a little passé, don't you think?"

I saw that I'd have to bait the hook with something a little more to Sudro's tastes. "Well, here's the thing... I didn't want to say anything until the deal was finalized... but, if this does get made, I'm pretty deep into talks with Junior Handsome about fully funding that other project you've been trying to get made for years now."

"The Engine Joe Story?" Director Lad's eyes all but lit up in dollar signs.

It's my experience that everyone has a price... sometimes it's just in foreign currency.

"That's right... you sign on to direct 'Growing Up Handsome,' and I can almost guarantee that 'Engine Joe' is as good as in the theaters."

Director Lad started talking faster than a Mark-10 cruiser. "I... well... I'd have to think about it, of course, but... seriously though, Junior Handsome is really interested in 'Engine Joe'? I wouldn't have thought that a guy like that... I'd want to talk to the rights holders, of course... and I'd have to have final say on the script approval... I don't know... I'd really have to think about..."

"Well... you better think fast, buddy. Here's our guest, now."


Junior Handsome strode into the Overlook Room like he owned the place and - honestly - even if he said he did, there wasn't a man there who'd try to correct him. For twenty years, his father Molock and his uncle Large had ruled the underworld with their iron fists, racking up more bodies than a whole asteroid field worth of Shaghallas could hold. Though he was trying hard to legitimize the family name, it was only human nature to let that reputation precede him, to open whatever doors might stand in his way.

Following right behind Junior, though, was someone else... a dame I had never seen before and who - before the night was through - I'd wind up wishing I'd never seen at all.

Watching her walk into the room, though, I had to swallow hard to keep my heart from rising right out of my throat. This gal had more curves than the Kessel Run, and legs that seemed to go on a lot longer than twelve parsecs. For half a second, the entire room seemed to swirl around her like an event horizon drawing me in closer and faster. I would have been lost right then and there, if Junior hadn't suddenly grabbed my hand into his meat hook like paws and shook it nearly clean off.


"Ex! How you doing, compadre!"

"Junior... baby!" I said, rising to my feet and playing my part. The super-rich always loved when you laid industry cliché on them. "It's been too long. And who is your lovely..."

"Oh... I'm sorry... this is my sister, Lotta." He leaned in closer to whisper to me, "I'm sorry, Ex... she insisted on coming along. Don't worry... she won't interfere with business."

Lotta Handsome - all but ignoring her boorish brother's presence - locked onto to my eyes like a missile guidance system and extended her hand. In a throaty voice that told me this girl had seen more parties than a Venturan DJ, she leaned in and all but whispered directly into my soul, "Charmed... I'm sure."

I took her extended hand and brought it to my lips, little realizing that the next twenty-four hours would cause me to seriously rethink everything I ever believed about the phrase, "sealed with a kiss".

fantastic stuff, Exxy! keep it coming!

Ohmygod! This story like rocks Mr ExNyquil. I hope you like survive and junk cuz I'm like supposed to tell you...

I'll just wait till you're like done and stuff.

The night wore on... our table filling up with empty glasses just as fast as Junior filled up Director Lad with false promises.

The Engine Joe Story?

Sure... Junior Handsome had about as much interest in financing "Engine Joe" as he did in building a planet-sized incinerator to shovel his money into directly. But he knew - as much as I did - just the right sized carrot to feed Director Lad to get him on board. It's not the type of thing I'm ever proud of doing but, like I said before, it's all part of the game you've got to play.

While Junior and Sudro were sinking each other's battleships, Lotta Handsome was busy with a game of her own. From the way she had been looking at me for the last half hour, I wouldn't have been surprised at all if it was "twister" this girl had in mind.

She let out a long sigh, interrupting her brother's rant about the future of holo-vision. "Junior, I'm bored!"

Junior shot his sister a glare that was cold as a cup of Tharrian coffee and started cracking his too-large knuckles. "I told you that you were going to be, but you had to come, didn't you?" He looked around the Beacon and noticed the dance floor. "Why don't you just go dance for a while?"

"What... alone?" She shot me a quick glance that contained more words than a Bierbaum text piece.

"Oh, that's all right, " I said, coming in right on my cue, "I've been known to trip the light fantastic a bit in my day."

"Aw, Ex," Junior said, "That's nice of you and all, but you don't have to do that. My sister is just being difficult" He hit the last word with a bite that told his sister exactly what might be in store if she didn't knock it off, but it was too late - I was already standing up and buttoning my jacket.

"No, not at all, Junior, it would be my pleasure." I extended my arm to Lotta and started to lead her to the floor, giving a glance back just to make sure that Junior wasn't shooting any daggers in my direction. I didn't have to worry, though - he was already back into his conversation with Director Lad, laying out plans for a project that had as much chance for success as a Daxamite lead-worker who forgot to take his morning pills.


"Finally... Mr. Nihil. I thought you'd never ask," Lotta purred like a kitten as I slipped my hand into hers and the band slipped into some early Naltorian dream-waltz.

"Yeah, well... it's a dangerous game you're playing with your brother right over there."

"Why, I wonder if I know what you're talking about."

"I wonder if you wonder."

Lotta smiled. "Well, don't you worry about Junior. He's really a doll once you get to know him... and has about as much sense as one, as well."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, his little fantasy... about 'restoring' the family name or something. Ridiculous, if you ask me. The public doesn't want some squeaky clean Handsome story... they want the dirt. You know that as much as I do."

"And I suppose you've just got tons of dirty stories, don't you?"

"Mister, I got plenty."

"Too bad that he's the one footing the bill, then, huh?"

"Is that what he's told you?" She laughed lightly. "I guess I sized you up wrong... I thought you'd have better sense than that."

I didn't say a word. I've been around these types long enough to know that the only thing they like better than talking about their money is talking about someone else's money. If she was going to be giving me the inside skinny on the real state of Junior's finances, there was no way I was going to stop her. I just raised my eyebrow and let her go on.

She laughed. "Oh... you didn't know. Daddy didn't leave Junior a dime. Sure, he's the 'head' of the Handsome family, but did you really think that the great Molock Handsome would trust that lunkhead with our family's fortune? Please. He left it to the only one of his children with enough brains not squander it on a bunch of half-cocked pet projects."

"You?"

"Me."

"Well, fine then... if you were going tell the Handsome story, how would you suggest going about it?"

"Hmm..." I felt her hand begin to lightly graze my back, "You are persistent when there's something you want, aren't you?"

Was this gal bluffing? I figured I'd just lay my cards on the table and see how the hand played out. I pulled her closer. "Sure I am... when it's something worth getting."

She smiled a wicked smile as the song ended, as if she were mulling something over. "All right... all right, Mr., Nihil. They say that business makes for strange bedfellows. What say we put that little adage to the test. There's not enough time to talk now... but... later."


As we walked back to the table, she took my hand again and I felt her slipping a small card into it. She whispered, "Zaryan's Palace... the Grand Hotel... Room 247. We'll talk."

We got back to the table and, as Junior gave her a slight grimace, she poured back into her chair. Her every move glided like quicksilver and already I knew this girl was twice as dangerous. They say that sometimes a little danger is the only thing that lets you know that you're alive and kicking.


By the time the morning rolled around... Lotta Handsome would be neither.

Lotta Handsome rolled out of the Beacon a little after midnight, coming up with some half-baked line about a headache. I can't say her brother put up too much of a fight.

I stayed on another couple of hours, listening round after round as Junior piled it on to me and Director Lad higher than a plate of Smallville pancakes. After the bomb Lotta just placed in my lap, I didn't know how this guy thought he was gonna be pulling off any of the plans he'd been gabbing about. I guess sometimes a guy just tells the same story for so long that even he starts believing it.

I figured I'd better split the joint before he started plying me with a scheme to do a remake of "The Great Darkness Saga" starring Darkseid himself. I grabbed the tab - neither one of them tried too hard to stop me - and told Junior I'd give him a call in the morning. I said good night to Director Lad, and headed out to my date with destiny.


The streets were still jammed with half-drunk Klordny-festers, so there was no making it to Zaryan's through the city. I figured I'd head down to the boardwalk to let the sea air clear my head out, then cut a path to the Grand Hotel through Zaryan's Casino.

I needed some time alone and, lucky for me, the boardwalk was as deserted as a Trommite shopping mall. That part of town always drew in more of the family crowd and those folks weren't the types to hang around downtown once the Legion World night started showing its true colors.

Walking down toward the Casino, I heard some far off music and saw a light coming in from a bonfire outside of the Vudoo Lounge about a mile down. I think I had heard from one of my guys that there was supposed to be some big Klordny bash going on there for the staff of Quislet Esq's Super Law Firm. Good for them. Those legal eagle types could be a stiff crowd sometimes but, when push came to shove, they were good guys who had pulled my fat out of the fire more than a few times.


I hit the Casino about three AM but, from the scene inside, you'd have never guessed it. Zaryan's always keeps their Casino lit with fusion-lights that make it seem like broad daylight. It's supposed to make the hard-core gamblers lose any track of time, but I don't know if I buy that. For the type of guys I've seen that get hooked on the Planetary Chance Machines, there's really ever only one time of day: that magic hour right before dawn when they still think they're gonna hit the big score.

I took a look around the Casino floor, just to see if there was anybody I needed to watch out for. The last thing I needed was word getting back to Junior that my ugly mug showed up at three in the morning in his sister's hotel. He might not have been the brightest bulb on the planet, but I'm guessing he had enough brains to add up two and two.

I spied Tamper Lad dressed to the nines in a tux over at the baccarat table but, considering he was laying down ten thousand credit bets - and I'm pretty sure that slinky piece of eye candy hanging off his arm was the Venusian heiress, Angora Swetters - unless I started ordering my martinis shaken and not stirred, there was next to no chance he'd even be giving me a second glance.

Another guy I thought I recognized was pumping credit after credit of Venturan walking money into the slots. From the looks of his eyes - which looked like somebody had spent the better part of the night trying to tattoo a red spider web on them - he'd been at it a while. I knew this guy's face from somewhere, but it wasn't ringing a bell at the time. I guessed that unless I started doing my impression of a Kono fruit from Carrgg, though, this guy wasn't getting pulled away any time soon.


Feeling like I had this thing in the bag, I made my way across the Casino and into the Grand Hotel lobby. I popped in a stick of gum, hopped into the airlift, and started thinking about the hand that I was about to play. Lotta had dealt me some pretty good cards so far - Queen of Hearts... pocket Diamonds... and the best pair I had ever seen.

I was just one turn away from finding out that - this whole time - the dealer had been bluffing, holding her aces and eights close to her chest.

I should have known something was up.

You'd think, after so many years, I'd learn to trust my gut. Even before the airlift hit her floor, I started to get that cold feeling in the pit of my stomach - the same one I'd get every time a deal started to go bad, the one that said, "You baited this hook the best you could, Ex, but this fish just ain't biting."

I marked it down to nerves - Lotta was a tough read. Could be that her "talk" meant "talk," or it could be that this gal had other ideas about how we'd be using our mouths tonight. Either way, I got to admit that I was feeling on edge - and that ice ball forming in my breadbasket was the best sign I had that things might not go down the way I'd been imagining when we'd been dancing at the Beacon.

The lift set me down on her floor and I strolled over to the door of room 247, giving it a few raps like a Tulvanian Witch Wolf that needed a shave and a haircut... but just needed to know the price. Before I even got to the "cut" part of my knock, though, the door cracked open a bit on the hinge.

Just like a dizzy dame - give me the key, then leave the door unlocked.

"Candy-gram for Ms. Handsome," I called into the suite.

I poked my head around the corner of the door, but Lotta was nowhere in sight. I heard the faint noise of the sonic shower running from the bathroom. I was just about to backtrack down to the lobby to give her another twenty minutes or so, when I saw the holo-note projected up from the lounge table: "Two shakes of a Tork's tail, darling... fix yourself a drink."

Fair enough. I'm never one to walk away from free hooch, especially when it's being offered by a gal with nothing but a door separating me from her altogethers.

"Heya... Lotta," I called back to the bathroom, "It's Ex... didn't want you jumping out of your skin if you heard somebody strolling around out here."

Nothing.

I shrugged and strolled over to the bar. I did my best... worst that would happen, I figured, is she'd pop out unawares and slug me in a panic if she didn't hear. Wouldn't be the first time it happened to me with a gal, and I was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last. She did leave the door unlocked and set me up with a note, though, so I figured I was all right. I shook my head. Rich dames.

I took a gander at the bar. Top shelf all the way. I grabbed a bottle of Orandan Rye and poured myself two fingers. There was already a glass sitting on the bar with a few half-melted cubes in it. All Lotta had been drinking at the Beacon was Kono spritzers, so I thought she didn't go in for the hard stuff. Maybe that was just a show on Junior's account.

I settled down on the lounge and took a sip of my drink. Smooth. I sat there for a minute or two just relaxing... listening to the steady stream of the sonic shower echoing off the tiles like some sort Tartarusian second-stringer. Lady sure likes getting clean, I thought.

After a while, I started getting bored, so I wandered around, giving the suite a quick once over. I had put a few clients up at Zaryan's before, mostly out of town talent I was courting, but I had never stayed here myself. Nice digs if you can afford them.

I wandered over into the kitchen area and saw Lotta's Omnicom sitting on the counter. It was the newest model, the Omni3012 - these babies weren't even on the market yet. I was still making do with my refurbed 3008. Didn't have all the bells and whistles, but it got the job done. I picked up Lotta's piece, admiring how light it was.

"Say, Lotta..." I called back, "Nice pod. Guess membership has its privileges, eh?"

Nothing.

What was with this dame? She had to be deafer than a tourist in downtown Gryxor.

"Lotta! You hear me in there?"

Nothing.


Right then, that old snowball in my gut started dropping down into Kelvin. I walked over to the bathroom door and saw that it was slightly ajar. I edged up on it... feeling like time itself had just taken a big swig of Professor Potter's elastic serum.

Looking down through the crack at the bathroom floor I saw Lotta's hand - that same one that a little over three hours ago I had felt brushing my back - lying flat down on it.

I didn't think twice. I slammed into the door, forcing it open, as the weight holding it closed nudged across the floor. I gave the door another push and barged in. If I said before that cold feeling in my stomach was worrying me... it wouldn't be for long. In the next three seconds that cold feeling - along with everything else in there - was pouring out with a vengeance as I started retching into the can.


Lotta's body might have been blocking the door, but her head - still as pretty as the first moment I saw her strolling into the Beacon - was sitting all by its lonesome in the sink.

They say it takes a crisis for a man to find out what he's really made of. Well... I got to tell you, I'm ashamed to admit it now but, after seeing Lotta Handsome looking anything but, I found out exactly what I was made of:

One hundred percent, grade-A Elvabird liver.

Maybe somebody else would have done the right thing - picked up the Omnicom and dialed the Security Office right then and there. Called in the crime, maybe, and tried to help out, before whoever did this got the chance to do it again.

I said, "maybe".

Truth is, until you've been there - staring into the cold glassy eyes of a dame's face while the rest of her is underfoot - there's no telling what you'd do.

This guy? I panicked.


I flushed the can, and bolted out of the bathroom faster than you could say, "X2(9YZ)4A". I didn't know what had gone down in this room tonight and, frankly, I didn't care. All I knew was that there was a dead girl on the other side of that door and if I didn't make myself scarce - and pronto - there was a good chance that, when the music stopped, I was going be the only sap scrambling to find a chair. I also knew that the Security Office would be only too happy to help me out in that regard.

I looked around the suite to see if I had left any signs that I was here tonight. Lotta's holo-note was still projected up from the table, but it only said "darling," - not my name. Good... let them try to track down one of Lotta's other "darlings". I'm sure that would be a long list.

I wiped down the bottle of Rye - and the glass I had used - in case they started scrubbing the joint for pore-patterns. Then, using the same cloth, I gave the internal door scanner a once over. I pushed the still-unlocked door open with my foot, then quick hit the autolock, jumping out before it closed behind me. I didn't want some cleaning lady to get the scare of her life. Let Zaryan's have to pry it open to find that mess.


One of the things that makes Zaryan's the place to go for the rich and famous, is their promise of discretion. There's not a single holo-camera in the whole joint. A lot of what I knew went down in the Grand Hotel - senators playing around on their wives with their by-the-hour Durlans, holo actors taking a few Lotus Fruit lost weekends - would make the front page of LMB Enquirer if not for the fact that Zaryan's likes to keep the place a closed shop. What goes on at the Grand Hotel stays at the Grand Hotel.

Even the Casino floor, the place where you'd think they'd want to watch a guy from every angle, is completely camera free. Instead, they employ a staff of Titanian telepaths to keep watch. They are specially trained to not delve directly into the minds of the clientele - only to pick up any thoughts of cheating. If I just made my way casually back through the Casino, and kept calm, there was a pretty good chance I could be back on the boardwalk - and getting the hell out of Dodge - before anybody batted an eye. Nobody would ever be the wiser that I had even been here tonight.

Of course... things never play out that easy.


"Ex? Exnihil?"

I had just gotten out of the airlift and was heading back into the Casino when I heard my name being called from the cashier window. I tried to play it off, but the guy finished cashing out and started heading my way.

"Say... Exnihil! " He headed toward me with a big grin. It was the same fellow I'd seen with his eyes glued to the slots earlier. I stopped short, trying to come up with a story quick, in case this guy started asking too many questions. He sidled up on me and grabbed my hand in a shake. He must have caught the panic in my eyes because he let loose with a big laugh.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he laughed.

"The face rings a bell, but I..."

"Kid Quislet!" he interrupted. "We worked together on that 'Primary Color Gang' deal a few years back."

Of course. Now I placed him. Kid Quislet - he was one of the junior partners over at Quislet Esq.'s Super Law Firm. A nice enough guy from what I remembered, but a little of a behind-the-scenes type - usually letting Quislet Esq. run point. He ran a lot of the legwork during a rights negotiation with The Yellow Kid for a holo-piece I produced back in '08. I remembered being impressed with how thorough he was, cutting through a lot of the red tape. Any other time, I'd buy the guy a drink but, right then, my head was swimming.

"Sure... Kid Quislet," I said, trying to put on a good face. "How've you been... still fighting the good fight?"

"Always, always. You have a good Klordny?"

"Yeah... you? I thought all you double-breasted types were partying over at the Vudoo Lounge tonight."

At that comment, it was his eyes that got a look of panic. "Yeah, that... uh... that broke up a couple of hours back. I figured I'd pop in over here to try out my luck a little before calling it a night."


I did a double take. His story smelled fishier than a Hykraian after a day on Talok VIII. I had seen the Lounge still in full swing on my way over here. Why was he lying to me? I looked at Kid Quislet's face again and, suddenly, it clicked.

I wasn't looking at a guy who "popped in" at the Casino on a whim. From the way he'd been working that fruit machine earlier, I'd be willing to lay odds he had his own chair here, and that the cocktail girls knew him by name. I'd guess there was a pretty good chance that having a chronic gambler on staff wouldn't be something that'd play too well at the Law Office. If I knew human nature, Kid Quis probably wouldn't want word getting out that anybody had seen him any more than I did.


"Oh, yeah?" I said, throwing out just a hint of challenge. It was a crappy play on my part, but I had bigger things to deal with right now. He started backing down in a hurry, getting a little flustered.

"Yeah... so... anyway, listen, I've got to get going, but, uh... let me... uh..." He started fishing in his pockets. "Let me give you a card... hmm... guess I'm out of cards, but... if you ever need anything, you just give a call over to Quislet's, OK?"

"I'll do that."

I was still in a daze over Lotta, but I felt bad about putting the guy on the spot. I gave him a pat on his shoulder. "Listen, you take care of yourself, hey, Kid?"

"Aw, Ex... don't you worry about me. You take care of yourself." He gave me a wink and started walking back into the Casino.


I stood there - drained - and watched him disappear into the crowded floor as my situation came rushing back to me in force. Yeah... take care of myself.

How in the world was I going to do that?

I made it down to the boardwalk about half past four. The sun was just beginning to crack the horizon, rolling back that long dark night and starting a new day on Legion World.

The whole strand was still deserted - as anybody with half a brain was home safe and sound by then. I saw the fire pit over at the Vudoo Lounge a couple miles down had been doused out. Just a thin line of smoke was still getting pulled out to sea by the morning breeze. Seeing that place made me think again about Kid Quislet. It was a shame but, really, who was I to pity him? Guy gets that old super-monkey on his back, I imagine it takes a pretty strong bit of Kryptonite to knock it off.

Me... I had something a lot bigger than a monkey weighing me down and - unless this entire night turned out to be a dream, a hoax, or some kind of imaginary story - it was going to take a lot more than some hunk of space rock for me to exit the scene with a wink.


I continued padding my way down the boardwalk - a hundred questions spinning around my brain bucket.

What had Lotta gotten mixed up in? Was this thing something that somebody had been cooking up for a while, or was it just random - a stroke of bad luck on her part? I thought about the way she was done in. No... this thing was way too vicious - too personal - to just be some night stalker that picked a random pretty dame to practice his butchering skills on.

She left the door unlocked, so he wouldn't have had any problem getting in, but - apart from the scene in the bathroom - I didn't see any sign of struggle. Did she know this guy? The more I thought about it, the more it had to be. I saw that other glass sitting on the bar, and I was pretty sure that didn't look like the kind of drink Lotta went in for. Somebody was making himself at home before he did the deed.

That was another thing, though. She knew I was coming over, but didn't know when. She only left the Beacon a couple of hours before me. Unless she knew some faster way to the Grand Hotel than I did, that would have been all the time she had to get there, have somebody else over, get herself killed, and have her killer get away before I got there.

Unless the killer was already waiting for her when she got there... or if he was still there when I showed up. I shook my head. I didn't even want to think about that possibility.

No, there were just too many pieces of this puzzle that weren't fitting, and I had a pretty good hunch that the picture on the outside of the box didn't even match.


The early morning sky on the strand was starting to turn all the colors of the time stream. A little ways down the shore I saw some young gal in a tight elastic number doing some stretching out for what looked like a little morning exercise. I didn't want to get too close in case she noticed me, so I figured this was a good a place as any to grab some real estate and take a break before I made it the rest of the way home.

I watched as this girl - a tiny thing with long black hair - was wrapping up her stretches and started going into some tai chi looking moves, all fluid and graceful like. I always admired a person that knew how to move. It was a real pleasure to watch somebody like that in a fight. Me... I had no style. In a pinch, I could lay a guy out with the old Suicide Slum sucker punch, but a lot of those LMB guys had way more approach than I did.

I started wondering if maybe that girl was an LMB member. Well... it was too late now. I was already here and, if she did notice me, I'd just have to make up some story about having too hard a night at Klordny and heading to the beach to clear out my head. Wouldn't even really be a lie. I continued watching her, her arms extending out in arcs smoother than a Durlan's head. It was amazing that, even in world where there were things as brutal as what I'd seen back in that hotel, there was still beauty to be found.


After a while, this gal finished up her routine, then moved over to a long bag she had laid down on the sand. She reached inside and pulled out something long and thin. As she grabbed hold of it with both hands and raised it over her head, locking tight into a pose, I realized it was a sword.

"Kiai!"

I heard her voice echoing down the beach as she suddenly spun around, the sword making a clean arc from over her head to straight ahead. I jumped a bit in my seat at the sudden motion.

"Kiai!"

She turned the sword around in her hands and, going to a knee, pushed it straight backward. I winced again, getting a sudden flash of Lotta in the bathroom.

"Kiai!"

She pivoted on her knee, rising up to a standing position, her arms crossing as the sword came to a straight line directly above her eyes, as she faced directly toward me.


I don't whether it was the sharp, clipped violence of the girl's moves that did it to me, or the events of the night suddenly rushing back all at once, but - before I knew what was happening - I felt the hot, salty burn of tears rising up in my eyes.

My god... what was I going to do? I drew in a hard breath as the girl shouted again, spinning away from me as she continued her routine. I needed to calm down. I needed a trigarette.

I reached into my inside coat pocket to grab my pack and felt my hand hit something hard. A little confused, I grabbed the object and pulled it out to take a look. My heart sank.


It was Lotta's Omnicom.

There's bad news... and then there's the kind of news that makes you want to flip off the set, kick in the screen and throw the whole mess right out of a 31st story window.

This was worse than both of them.


I didn't even remember slipping the Omnicom into my pocket. I must have been holding it when I'd pushed my way into the bathroom and just pocketed it without thinking. I didn't know all the features of the Omni3012, but I did know that one thing that came standard - for at least the past decade - was a multiversal positioning system. If anybody was trying to look for this piece right now, it would lead them right to yours truly.

I had to ditch this thing… and fast.

I couldn't bring it back to the Hotel - that would be a chump's move - and there was no way I could drop it here with that girl down on the beach as a witness. I had to get back into town, pronto, and get it into one of those public trash atomizers.

I cut further up the boardwalk, giving the girl a wide berth - didn't want her catching any better glimpse of my mug than she'd already gotten - and beat feet into town. I was a little further uptown than where I had cut in last night, so - looking around the city - I suddenly had an idea.

If I didn't miss my mark, I was only a couple of blocks from a Nova Express station. I took a quick look down at the Omnicom - it was about twenty after five. The Nova ran like clockwork every half hour. If I could make it to the station, I could hop the next train uptown and get pretty close to my apartment. I knew there was an atomizer about a block away where I could dump this piece, and be back at my place inside of ten minutes.

I made my move.


The Nova glided in right on time. I gave the station agent a sawbuck and grabbed my ticket. I figured using my credit chip would be just one more trace that placed me closer to the scene than I needed to be. I climbed on board and just about collapsed into a seat. This night had burned me down harder than an energy release generator and - if I didn't hold it together for a little while longer - I was in danger of drifting off into the dream demon's arms right then and there.

Except for me, the train was empty. Thanks for small miracles. It occurred to me, as the Nova fired up and started its rhythmic pulse uptown, that this would be a golden opportunity to give Lotta's Com a quick once over before it became nothing more than a pile of ash, and a few random quarks. It was a long shot, but maybe there was something on this piece that might shine a little light on who wanted Lotta out of the picture... and why.

I pulled out the Omnicom and turned it over. It was a sleek little number, all right - who knew what a thing like this could do? I pressed the touch screen and the thing came alive.


"Welcome back, Ms. Handsome. Please state your pass code to continue."


Aw, cripes. Of course it would be protected. What was I thinking?

I sighed a depressed, "No..." and went to put it back in my pocket, when it spoke again.


"Pass code accepted. Hello, Ms. Handsome. How may I help you this morning?"


I did a double take. Her pass code was "No"? Whatever else anybody'd say about Lotta, they can't say she didn't have a sense of humor. I looked at the Com again. Where should I start?

"Show me outgoing calls in the last 24 hours."


"No calls available."


Really? A dame that didn't like to gab? That was a little hard to swallow, but then it hit me. It's not that she didn't like chatting. It was just that she was exactly the type of girl that liked games... she wanted them to call her.

"Show me incoming calls in the last 24 hours."


"Incoming calls:
13 August 0930 - Junior Handsome;
13 August 1127 - Junior Handsome;
13 August 1305 - Spiffany Jewelers;
13 August 1325 - Legion World Bank;
13 August 1542 - Junior Handsome;
13 August 1734 - Junior Handsome;
13 August 2116 - Junior Handsome;
13 August 2118 - Junior Handsome;
13 August 2120 - Junior Handsome;
13 August 2122 - Junior Handsome"


Sheesh... either Junior liked keeping close tabs on his sister, or they were having a pretty decent spat yesterday. It scrolled down another ten or so two-minute calls from Junior. From the looks of the gaps, either she wasn't answering, or she was just hanging up. There was a gap for the block that we had been at the Beacon, then one other call listed... on August 14th at 0005 - right after Lotta had split the restaurant.


"14 August 0005 - Private Caller"


Fat lot of help that was.

Somebody was calling that had the means to bypass the Omnicomnal Identification Laws. ID was a mandatory part of the Omnicom contract - marketing was how Omni made the lion's share of their bread, and they weren't about to let some potential consumer slip through the cracks. To have somebody show up as "Private" either meant that this person had paid Omni off with a hefty bribe... or they were jamming their coms illegally. If they were jamming, there was no way I could hack the call, but I figured I'd roll the dice.

"Playback call 14 August 0005."


"Playback unavailable for selected call"


Yeah... that figured. What about a transcript? Even if I couldn't get the other side of the conversation, it might still pull up Lotta's.

"Transcript for call 14 August 0005."


"Partial transcript available for selected call. Text to follow."


In a flood, the screen filled with Lotta's side of the call:


"Hello?"
...
"Darling... how are you?"
...
"Yes, I know... sorry to have kept you waiting. Dinner was interminable. I assume you let yourself in?"
...
"Ha, ha... you got my note."
...
"Yes, I know that Torks don't have tails. That's the joke. I mean really, darling, I thought urbane humor was your specialty."
...
"Well, you are my 'darling', darling."
...
"Sigh... fine. Yes, of course, I have what you're looking for. I assume you have the money?"
...
"Well, I had to ask. Listen, we'll have to dispense with any other 'business' tonight, all right? I have someone else coming over in a bit."
...
"Oh, stop. It's nothing like that. It's that holo-producer my brother has been courting."
...
"Yes."
...
"Oh, you know him?"
...
"Fine... know 'of' him. You know 'of' a great many people, I suspect. Must you always be so precise?"
...
"Yes, I am going to tell him."
...
"The world should know the truth. She should know."
...
"Well, it's really none of your business, in any case."
...
"Yes."
...
"Hmm... about thirty minutes I'd say."
...
"Well, fix yourself a drink."
...
"Ugh. She can wait. I'm certain she can keep herself occupied for a little bit. Perhaps the shiny lights in the casino will amuse her."
...
"I'm sorry... I know I'm cruel. I'll be there in just a bit."
...
"Kisses, darling."

End of Transcript


The transcript came to end just as the Nova pulled into my station. I powered down the Com and slipped it back in my pocket, climbing up out of my seat.

What a sap I had been.

That holo-note in Lotta's room wasn't even meant for me. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who Lotta had been talking to. Guy goes to all that trouble to block his ID, and Lotta all but spills the beans on it with her catty chatty routine. Just try and prove it, though.

I thought I had it pegged pretty well from who I had seen down in the Casino - but there was nothing explicit in that call that would definitively place old Tamper Lad on the other end. Even if I could prove it - from Lotta's side of the chat, there wasn't anything I heard that sounded like there was murder in the wind. Sure... it sounded like the two of them were mixed up in some kind of shady deal, but, with Tamper, I figured that just sort of goes with the territory.

It was that second part that really caught my eye, though. What was she going to tell me last night that made him question her? Who was this "she" that had to know the truth? And - more to the point - was it something that somebody would kill for?


I would have loved to have more time to go over the rest of her calls like Azra Saugin digging for treasure, but every minute I was walking around with this piece was one minute more that I risked somebody tying it to me... and tying a noose around my neck.

I walked up to the atomizer at the end of my street, gave a quick look down the block for any Johnny Q. Publics, and then dropped it in. It fired up immediately, roared for a second or two, then said, "Thank you for keeping our city clean, Citizen."


I let out a disgusted snort. Keeping it clean, eh?

Brother… this city couldn't get any dirtier.

My head hit the pillow harder than if I'd been laid out by a Rimborian uppercut. This night had dragged me in more directions than a Starhaven tracker on the tail of a teleporter and - whatever else the days ahead of me had in store - right now my body needed sleep.

My mind - on the other hand - was just getting started. I drifted off into that black hole of sleep - the old noodle working overtime, spinning all the pieces of this puzzle around every which way, trying to find any two of them that would fit together.


I was standing in the corner of a boxing ring, my gloved hands resting on the rope looking out into the crowd. It was a sea of faces, all of them laughing like they were watching an episode of "Tenzil for the Defense". I scanned around the crowd looking for anybody I knew - my eyes coming to rest on Tamper Lad, sitting right in the front row.

He was holding a big snifter of brandy, just swirling it around and grinning at me like he knew all my dirtiest secrets. I called out to him, but no sound was coming out of my mouth. This made him grin even bigger, as he raised his other hand towards me in a fist and slowly put up his middle finger.

The bell rang.

I turned around into the ring, but before I could even get my footing, the neanderthal paw of Junior Handsome cracked into my jaw. The whole ring turned blue. I stumbled to my feet and tried to put up my glove, but Junior's fist came in from the other direction laying me out with a body blow. The whole ring turned red.

I fell to the ground as Kid Quislet appeared over me in a ref's outfit, starting to count me down for the count. He looked right in my eyes and slowly shouted, "One". He pointed to Junior standing in his corner. He waited a second, like he wanted me to say something. I just looked confused at him, so he shouted, "Two," pointing to the ring girl waiting on the side with her card. It was Lotta Handsome, a line of stitches across her neck. He waited again, got nothing from me, so shouted, "Three," and pointed to my corner. I turned to look, but the bell rang again.

I forced myself to my feet, collapsing down on the stool that appeared in my corner. I sat facing the ring as a pair of female hands appeared from behind me, wiping my face down with a towel. After a second, the girl dropped the towel, and I felt her hand rest on my forehead. It was the most soothing thing I ever felt. All of a sudden, though, the hand tensed up - jerking my head backward and locking me tight into place. Before I could even react, out of the corner of my eye I saw a sword coming down over me. It arced down in front of me and - with a sudden slam - plunged right into my gut.

The bell rang.


I woke up with a scream - covered in a cold sweat and panting like a space canine patrol agent chasing down a phanty cat. It was already dark outside. I looked down at my Omnicom - already seven at night. I had slept through the whole day.

I heard a bell ringing and - still only half awake - got a little confused. Something else else about a boxing ring? The bell rang again and I realized it was my room-com. Without thinking, I mumbled, "Connect".

"Hello... Hello?! Ex! You there?!"

It was Junior Handsome, sounding half crazed. What was I thinking... why did I connect the stupid line? I couldn't just ignore him now - he knew the line was live. I cleared my throat and tried to put on a calm voice.

"Hello... Junior?"

"Ex, thank god! I've been trying to reach you all day."

"Junior, slow down... what's the matter?"

I dreaded what was coming next. From the string of calls I had seen on Lotta's Omnicom, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he was trying to call her today, too. A whole day had passed since Lotta was killed... had they opened the room?

"Ex... it's my sister. Something else else bad's happened."

I tried to keep my voice on an even keel, but already I could hear it cracking. "Wh... what happened?"

"I tried to call her this morning, but I kept getting an error... like her Com was broken or something."

"You know... well... maybe it is..."

"No, that's impossible. She's got a 3012 - it's got auto redirect. Unless it was completely destroyed, it'd connect you to the service. But, look... that's not important right now. Listen... Ex... you gotta be straight with me... did you see my sister last night? After you left the restaurant?"

I didn't know what was going on, but there wasn't a duralim wand's chance in a lightning storm that I was tipping my hand this early - without knowing what he knew.

"What? No... I think she said she was going back to her hotel." I said, trying to shift the focus off me.

"That's just it, though. The call kept erroring out... so I went to her hotel."

I knew this was it - the other shoe was about to drop. From this point on, everything was gonna hit the fan, and I had to make damn sure I didn't get caught in the cross breeze.

"You did?"

"The door was locked from the inside, but I made a big stink with the management - telling them I knew something was wrong. They wound up having to override the system, but they got the door open."

"Y... yeah?"

"Yeah. Ex..." I heard Junior's throat catch, "...she's gone."

"Wh... what do you mean, 'gone'?"

I braced myself. God... this was it.

"Her whole room was empty - just cleaned out! It looks like she flew the coop, Ex... my sister's gone missing!"

I listened to Junior blubbering away for the next hour in just a numb daze. Turns out that old Junior - for as big a palooka as he came across as - wanted me to believe he was about the straightest shooter in this whole mess.

He came clean with me about the dough. It was true - he told me - Lotta had been holding all the purse strings in the family ever since old Molock had kicked off. Junior was straight about wanted to clear the family name - that's why he came to me with the holo-idea - but Lotta wasn't having any of it. She was on board with making a holo... but she wanted to use it to dredge up a lot of old family business, stuff that Junior said was better off left in the past.

When she found out he was meeting with me over Klordny, she insisted on coming along, or - she had threatened - the money would dry up as far as he was concerned. He had called her non-stop that day, trying to square things over and convince her that she was making a mistake. Starting around nine the night before, she just stopped answering and he had to wound up having to bite the bullet... just hoping that Lotta wouldn't blow the whole thing when we met at the Beacon.

It all matched up with what I had seen on Lotta's com, so either he was telling the truth... or this guy told a better story than a whole parliament of rooks.

He told me that he got worried that Lotta was going to queer the deal when we started dancing but - after she split - he figured she must have tried her play... but I wasn't buying it. At least that's what he hoped. When he called Lotta today and got no answer, he started fretting again. That's when he headed to Zaryan's and found her room wiped out cleaner than a defeated computer tyrant's memory banks.

There was just one other wrinkle to Junior's sob story that might have thrown a sonic screwdriver into the whole works. Turns out he did the one thing that I wasn't able to do... something that maybe would have given the whole thing a different slant if I had... he called the Legion World Security Office.

They showed up with a couple of beat guys and gave the room a once over. They told him that they wouldn't be able to do anything until she'd been missing for at least 48 hours. She was a big girl, they said, and maybe just wanted some time to herself without her big brother breathing down her neck. I told Junior that, given everything, that sounded pretty solid and that he shouldn't worry so much.

It must have done the trick to hear that from somebody he trusted because, after another ten minutes or so, he thanked me for being a good friend, and let me go. A good friend? That fellow must have been pretty spun around to start laying that title on me. If he knew half of what had gone down that night, the only thing he'd be likely to lay on me were his fists.


I couldn't blame him though. Listening to Junior's own story had made me dizzier than a super-spinner beast from Monster World. Lotta's body was gone - her room cleared out. Either that gal wasn't half as dead as I thought she was - not likely unless she had a secret super-hero life as Head-Falls-Off-Girl - or somebody was making damned sure to cover their tracks.

My thoughts, of course, went back to Tamper Lad. I already knew that he had a key to her room - he was waiting for her there when he called her. But he also knew that I was coming up later on. Why would he kill her... let me find her... then come back and clean up after himself? It just didn't figure... why not just leave me holding the bag? Unless, for some reason he didn't want anybody knowing she was dead?

That left me as a very loose end that he'd eventually have to tie up, but - given that I hadn't heard word one from Tamper - it didn't seem like he was in too much of a hurry.

Then there was that guy, Kid Quislet... he'd seemed like he was in an awful big hurry to beat feet back to the Casino after I called him out on the whole Vudoo Lounge thing. I'd marked it down at the time to not wanting his little gambling jones getting back to the boss, but what if it was more than that? Was he somehow mixed up in this? He'd seen me at Zaryan's at the very least, so - once word got out - if he was... and needed a fall guy... I'd probably look like a very tempting bit of bait.

And what about Junior, himself? Sure... he talked a good game, but what if it was all a bunch of guff? What if he was so worried about the money that he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure his sister didn't close down the Bank of Handsome. Could this whole "legit" thing just be a front to the fact that his hands were still as dirty as ever? He couldn't have made it to Zaryan's before me, but he could have had a guy waiting for her to do the deed for him.

Sure... and maybe you did it, Ex. Maybe you're just a psychopath killer who blacks out and doesn't even remember killing a dame. What a crock. Truth is: I'm coming across like I had some kind of crazy lead on what was going on here, like everybody and their brother was a likely suspect, but - at the time - I was flying as blind as a Kathoonian Fruitbat.


I laid low for a couple of days, just trying to get my head together, before heading back into the office. When I finally did, my secretary all but tackled me with a pile of paperwork.

"Where have you been???"

"What... I'm not allowed to get sick once in a while?"

"Not when we've got deadlines pouring down like rain, boss." She snapped her gum and started reading down a list.

"Let's see... you've got about a hundred calls from Director Lad about 'The Engine Joe Story'... apparently, if you don't act quick, the option's running out on 'Whatever Happened to Lev Lad?'.... the Bank called, and we're late on the lease again... the rights for the..."

"Effie... Effie... it will all get taken care of. What's the most important thing on the slate?"

"Right now? There's a guy waiting for you in your office."

"What? Why did you let him in?"

"Oh... I'm sorry, boss... a guy starts flashing a badge in my face, I sorta do what he asks."

"A badge?"

"Yeah... some guy from the Security Office. Says his name is Matlock."


And that's where you came into the story, Matt...

I got to admit, Matt, the first time I saw you sitting in my office - decked out in that trench coat looking like it had it had been pulled out of some foxhole in Venado Bay - I just about breathed a sigh of relief. If this rumpled flatfoot was the best the Security Office could do, I figured I'd be able forget about this whole Lotta Handsome business faster than a Bloodlines character introduction.

Little did I know that once you got a nagging itch about a case, you'd scratch at it until you just about bled the truth out of every last person mixed up in the whole sorry mess.


I walked into my office, pushing all the fear I'd been feeling those past few days deep down into my gut - trying hard to fill the space with that old Nihil charm.


"Good afternoon, Detective..."

"Matlock."

"Matlock, yes. Sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Not a problem... your secretary said you're a little under the weather?"

"I'm all right... just had a bit of a long Klordny."

"Ha, ha... we've all been there."

"So," I said, grabbing my seat behind my desk, gearing up to keep this grilling as short and sweet as I could, "I'm afraid I don't have a ton of time... but Effie said you had a few questions for me about Ms. Handsome?"

"That's right... this shouldn't take more than a few minutes of your time. I'm just looking to clear a few things up."

"Absolutely... any help I can give you. I know that Junior Handsome is pretty broken up about his sister going missing and all."

"Thanks... it's always tough when you think somethings happened to a member of your family. Are you a family man, Mr. Nihil?"

I was a little taken aback by the question, but just rolled with it. "Ah... no, actually. My parents passed away about ten years ago."

"No wife... no kids?"

"Nope, just a happy bachelor."

"Well... you're missing out on a full life, Mr. Nihil. Mrs. Matlock and I have nine kids ourselves - every one of them more full of beans than the last."

"That sounds like quite a handful."

"Ah... wouldn't trade it for the world."

"Hmm... so, uh... Lotta Handsome?"

"Yeah, of course, forgive me. You get me talking about my kids, you'll never shut me up. So... how well did you know Ms. Handsome?"

I shifted in my chair. "Not well, I afraid. I only just met her for the first time on Klordny."

"At the..." flipping through your Omnipad, "... the Beacon Restaurant... is that right?"

"Yes, the Beacon."

"Fancy place... the Beacon. Mrs. Matlock loves all that high society stuff but... you know... detective's salary."

"I suppose. I try to take all the larger backers there. Helps to set a good first impression for people you're trying to get to finance holo-pics."

"I'll bet. So... Ms. Handsome was a financial backer for one of your holos, then?"

"No... Junior Handsome. Lotta was just there as his guest."

"Really? See... I thought..." flipping again, "I thought that Lotta Handsome was the executer of the Handsome estate."


Sharp.

Right then and there, I knew that you probably already knew half of what you were asking me. I figured I'd better start playing straight with you... at least up to the time I went to Zaryan's.


"Yeah... that's right... but I didn't find that out until later. Up until then, I thought Junior Handsome was the sole person with an interest in the project."

"Uh huh... so when did Ms. Handsome tell you the real story?"

"During a dance, actually."

"At the Beacon?"

"At the Beacon."

"Just one dance?"

"Just one."

"Is that right? Hmm. That's a heck of a piece of info to lay on somebody during a five minute do-si-do, wouldn't you say? That Ms. Handsome must have been some dancer. Did the conversation continue after the dance?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No. I have to admit, I was sort of taken unawares by the whole thing. I danced with her, but just played dumb back at the table afterward, figuring I'd have to have a talk with Junior later. He beat me to the punch, though. He came clean about the whole thing the next night when he called me about Lotta."

"How about that. Hmm... so... after the Beacon... was that the last time you saw Ms. Handsome?"

"That's right. She said she had a headache and left around midnight."

"That's sort of odd behavior for somebody that was looking to do business, though, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah... I would. But who knows what was going through her mind... like I say, I'm not that familiar with the lady. I really don't know what her angle was."

"Uh huh... so did she say anything else... mention that she was planning on meeting anybody else that night... or that she might be leaving town for a while?"

"Can't say that she did... not to me, at least."


I remember you looking at me just then for just a second too long. I was half thinking you were about to jump up and slap me in cuffs right then. But that's when you just closed down your pad, and stood up like you were wrapping up.


"OK... well... thank you for your time, Mr. Nihil. It's not much... but every little bit helps. Some time this week... when you get the time... I'm going to need you to come down to the station and give a statement, if you don't mind."

"Sure... no problem. It'll have to be a liitle later this week, though."

"Perfectly all right. Thanks for all your help... Oh! Just one more thing..."

"What's that?" I said, standing up as well.

"It's a little embarrasing..."

"No, no... what can I do for you?"

"Well... it's Mrs. Matlock. She's just crazy about all this holo stuff. Would you mind... do you think I could get her an autograph?"

"Yeah... yeah... of course. Let me just get a stylus..."

"Oh... that's OK... here, you can use mine... just 'To Mrs. Matlock'. That would be great."

"No problem at all," I said signing into your pad. "I don't know how impressive a producer's autograph is, but..."

"Oh, no. It would mean the world to her. Oh, you're a southpaw, huh?"

"Yeah... Nihil trait, I guess. My dad was too."

"Is that a fact? You know what they used to call lefties back in ancient Rome? 'Sinister'! Yeah... that's the Latin word for 'left-handed'. Isn't that something?"

"Yeah... it's something all right. Well, thank you for stopping by, Detect..."

"Matlock"

"Matlock. I hope I've been able to help you."

"Well... it's a tough one, you know... girl goes missing like that. But... we'll find her, don't you worry."

"Let's hope."


When you smiled and turned to leave, for half a second I almost thought that might have been the end of my part in this drama - that I'd finally be able to get to sleep that night without that impending feeling of doom hanging over me... but then you stopped...

"Oh! One more thing... I almost forgot. Ms. Handsome's Omnicom. You didn't happen to notice if she accidentally left it sitting on the table at the Beacon when she left, did you?"

I swallowed. "Ah... no... I can't say that I did. Why?"

"Well... the strangest thing... these new Omnicoms they're making. The... uh... the 3012s... it seems they've got this little multiverse positioning chip in them. It works on some kind of... I don't know... quantum something... I've never been big on all that fancy science stuff. But, apparently this thing is smaller even than an atom. Well... it seems Ms. Handsome's - the chip that is, not the whole Com - wound up in ones of the dumps where they send all that ash from those trash atomizers they have. It was still sending out a pulse. You believe that?"

"Really?" I could feel the panic rising back up from my gut. I just prayed it wasn't going as high as my eyes.

"Yeah... I figured that it didn't make much sense that Ms. Handsome would have just thrown the Com away herself, so I thought... I don't know... maybe some busboy or something might have grabbed it and accidentally thrown it into the atomizer."

"No... I didn't see..."

"Oh, well. It was worth a shot. It'll be a couple days yet before we're able to get the back-routes from the dump to figure out the general grid where the Com was ditched. I was just hoping to hit a lucky break."

"Me too."

"What's that?"

I shook my head, like I was lost in thought for a second. "I... was just saying that I was hoping you could hit a break, too. I didn't know her that well... but this has to be tough on Junior."

"Yeah. Well... thanks again for your time, Mr. Nihil and... like I say... when you get a chance this week, come on over to the station to make that statement."

"Will do."


I watched as you exited my office and - with you - any hope I had that I could just wash my hands of all this.

I sat down at my desk, nibbling away at a fingernail. You were good, Matt... no doubt... but how good? If you kept on this route, it didn't take a Brainiac to see that the footprints you were following were going to lead you right back to this office.

I had to know exactly who you were talking to... and how much you already knew.

I needed somebody to help me out. I needed my Gal Friday.


I pressed the office-com.

"Effie?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Get me Emily Sivana."

Emily Sivana might have been about the dizziest dame I'd ever butted heads with... but there was nobody on Legion World I knew I could depend on more.


The first time I met her, I found myself looking down the wrong end of one her razor-tipped arrows. A year later, she found herself on the end of a lip lock I was trying to lay on her. Somewhere in between taking the wrong turns toward killing and kissing, we figured out that we were both heading down the same road... ticking off the miles on our way toward a town named Trust.

I knew the Security Office was breathing down my neck, but I needed to know what doors they were knocking down to get their info. I needed eyes on, and there was nobody on Legion World with a better set of eyes than Emily.

A lot of people figure an archer's best assets are their arms - but even the best set of cables in the world couldn't put that hole in the target time after time without the peepers to match. With Emily it wasn't even a question. This gal could not only spot a family of Imskians dancing on a pinhead at 100 meters... she could make them all change step with a single shot. Not a bad ace to have up my sleeve and - what's more - she owed me one.


I gotta admit, the slap took me by surprise.


"Owe you one??? You've got a hell of a nerve, Nihil!"

The night crowd at SHAKES bar briefly shot a glance over in our direction, but seeing a fellow getting broadsided by a dame's palm was nothing new here. I rubbed my cheek as Emily continued laying into me.

"You drag me out to some shindig that I didn't even want to go to... get half-snookered... try to smooch me... almost get me killed in that whole "Johnny Halloween" business... and then expect a favor from me?"

"I saved you from Johnny Halloween."

"You brought me there in the first place!"

"This is because I didn't call afterward, isn't it?"

"Nihil... I am about two seconds from using your stupid necktie knot for target practice. The only reason I even agreed to meet you here is because your secretary said you had a job for me. Start talking... or start shopping around for another patsy to pull your fat out of the fire. What the sprock are you mixed up in this time?"

I grinned at Emily. She and I might have loved having a go at each other's throats - but I knew, as well as she did, that she couldn't resist the thrill of a job. I pulled her into a corner booth and started laying my cards out.

"All right... just settle down. Here's the deal. You heard about Lotta Handsome?"

"That mob princess that went missing? You didn't kill her, did you?"

"What... no! Keep your voice down."

"You did... didn't you?"

"Knock it off, OK? Number one - she's not a mob princess..."

"Oh, yeah... the Handsomes are just pillars of the community, right?"

"...and number two - they don't even know if she's dead."

"But... you do, right?"

I swallowed hard. If I couldn't trust Emily, then I had nobody. I lowered my voice, and continued on.

"Yeah... yeah, I do. The long and the short of it is that I was working a deal with Lotta. Well... you know better then anybody, sometimes when I'm working with a dame, I don't exactly think with the right part of my brain..."

"Or any part..."

"Yeah, yeah... well... the night of Klordny, she lays some info on me at the Beacon - and then tells me we're going continue the discussion later on in her hotel room..."

"Spare me."

"...except somebody else beat me to the party. I roll into Lotta's room that night and I find somebody else had already been there... and decided to have a field day with a ginsu."

"Grife, Nihil! You're serious? She is dead?"

"As Dillinger. I gotta to tell you, Em... I just panicked. I didn't know which way was up so I just got the hell out of there as fast as I could. But - before morning even rolls around - Mr. "Slice and Dice" must have come back and cleaned the place out. By the time anybody even noticed she was missing... she really was missing."

"God... so why don't you just go to the Security Office with your sob story?"

"Are you kidding me? If you didn't know me... would you believe that cock and bull?"

"I know you and I still don't."

"All right... just cut the smart talk, OK? This is serious. It's just a matter of time before they start connecting the dots and come up with a picture of yours truly."

Emily sighed.

"Yeah... I get it. So, what do you want me to do?"

I looked at Emily and knew I made the right call. If this girl was in for an inch, she was in for a mile.

"There's this detective..."

"Who?"

"Matlock... you know him?"

"I know of him. That guy's a bloodhound, Nihil. If he gets a hint of your scent on this, he is going to track it down."

"Yeah... I got that vibe. He was asking all the right questions. Maybe too on the nose, if you know what I mean. I figure Junior Handsome had to have told him whatever he knows... and Director Lad... but it's like he knew more than either of them could have told him. There's got to be somebody else feeding Matlock info. Somebody's talking... but I can't figure how they could be... unless they're involved, as well, and are doing their best to point him back in my direction."

"So... you want me to tail Matlock, right?"

"For starters. Find out where he's been going... who he's been talking to. Use your instincts, though. If the flatfoot winds up leading you to a better mark, feel free to change your target. Whatever you think is the better lead."

"Don't tell me how to run a tail, Nihil. This isn't my first time on a job."

"I know...I know. I trust you, Em... more than anybody... I just don't want you getting too aggressive, you know? Info only, no engagement."

"Or... I could just not do it at all. Whatever you want, you know?"

I grimaced. I knew Emily tended to get caught up in the chase, but what choice did I have?

"All right, all right... I get it. Do what you need to. But Emily - seriously - thank you for this."

"Grife, Nihil... don't go getting all sappy on me. When this is all over, though... you're going to owe me one."

"Whatever you want, baby."

"Well, we can start with you never calling me 'baby' ever again, or the Security Office won't be the only ones trying to put you six feet under." She stood up from the booth, muttering under her breath as she walked away, "...never took me to the Beacon, you know..."

In the days after I put Emily on the case, I started to breathe a little easier. Sure... I was still more mixed up than Joe Meach after he stood next to that statue case in that lightning storm - but knowing that I'd be getting the inside scoop on the way things were playing out made me feel like I could get back to something a little closer to my normal rhythm. It might sound cold - but Lotta pushing up daises didn't mean I still didn't have bills to pay.


I got a few more calls from Junior, but they were getting less frequent as the days went on. It goes without saying that "Growing Up Handsome" wasn't the top thing on his mind anymore - and god only knew if any funding would come through now, anyway. I just filed that one away in development hell for the time being and moved on. I was also doing a pretty good job of dodging Director Lad's calls. Poor kid. It was going break his heart when he found out that I had to back-burner "Engine Joe" for about the twentieth time.

I had a couple of reminders, too, from the Security Office that they still wanted me to come downtown to give that statement. I'd been doing my best to put that off until Em made contact with me, but - as the days starting ticking off - I figured it had to be starting look pretty suspicious. After a week of nothing, I figured I'd just have to bite the bullet and go in blind. I'd just stick to the same story I gave in my office, and play dumb if anything started to go off script.

Lucky for me, though, nothing did. I wound up giving my statement to some stylus-pushing desk jockey who looked like he had as much interest in my story as a Naltorian hearing yesterday's headlines. Twice I had to tell the guy that there was no "U" in "Handsome".

I wrapped up inside of about a half hour and, with that behind me, I was feeling about on top of the world. I made my way down the front steps of the Security Office and back onto the pavement and was just about to light up a celebratory trigar, when my Omnicom buzzed.


"Hello?"

"Nihil... it's me."

"Emily? What the sprock, Em? It's been a week. You're supposed to ke..."

"Listen..." she interrupted, " I don't have a lot of time. My shuttle's leaving in ten minutes."

"Your shuttle? Emily what's going on? Where are you?"

"Grand Central Space Port, but that's not important. Listen... you haven't talked to anyone else from the Security Office, have you?"

"What? Yeah... actually I did. I just got out of giving my statement. I couldn't wait around anymore, so I just parroted the same spiel I gave Matlock."

"Fine, keep it that way. Listen... this thing is bigger than you think. This isn't just some tarted-up mob princess getting knocked off."

"Emily, what are you talking about? Listen you've got to come in now... meet me at my off..."

"No time. I'm going to Earth.

"Earth? Are you still following Matlock?"

"Matlock? No... I stopped following him four days ago."

"What? Who are you following now?"

"You let me worry about that, OK? The less you know right now, the safer you'll be."

"Safer? Em... seriously... slow down... what in god's name are you talking about?"

"I have to go. Listen... as soon as you get the chance, you need to get to the West Side. There is a place in the 240's called Greenbucks - a cheese shop..."

"A cheese sh... what?"

"Ask for Eddie Stilton. He'll fill you in.

"Eddie Stilton? Blue Cheese Lad ? That guy's like eighty years old. What's he got to do with..."

"Just stop asking questions, OK? Talk to Eddie. I told him you'd be in touch. And whatever you do... do not talk to..."


I never heard the last part of Emily's call because just as I came around the corner - totally oblivious to anything but the craziness Em was spewing - I slammed smack into some girl walking the other way.

"Hey!"

"Oh, my god... I am so sorry," I said, scrambling to help her pick up her things, "I was talking on my com... and I wasn't looking where I was going... I just..."

All of a sudden I stopped short. At that moment, you could have knocked me over with a bowl of Rann Antar's feathers.


It was the girl I had seen at the seaside that morning. It was the girl with the sword.

"Go on... you just what?"

Still half in shock - as much from even seeing this girl again, as from realizing what a looker she was up close - I stood up and handed her the handbag she dropped.

"I... I'm just sorry... here you go."

"No problem," she said with the barest hint of a smile, taking my stupor for embarrassment, I guess, "I was late for work anyway. Another minute's not going to make a difference."


I looked in her eyes for any glimmer of recognition, but she wasn't reacting at all. Maybe I had been too far away that morning for her to get a good look at my mug, or maybe she had been too caught up in her routine to even pay attention. Either way, at least I had one less person to worry about tying me back to Lotta. Good thing, too, because I was in no shape right then to start making up new stories.

I got to admit, I was a little flummoxed by how gorgeous this gal was. She was a tiny little thing with skin the color of one of Cafe Cramer's chai lattes, and beautiful eyes like a twin pair of Winathian almonds. Her straight black hair fell over shoulders that you could tell had been toned to precision. I was guessing that little demo I'd seen on the beach was just the tip of the iceberg of the hours of practice this girl had logged.

I could have looked at this beauty all day - and probably would have - if she didn't speak up after a second or two of me gawking at her.


"Well... thank you... and be careful where you're going, OK?"

She smiled and started walking away.

"Wait... I..."

"Yes?" turning back around.

"I... uh..."

"Yes?"

"Can I... can I make it up to you, somehow?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's not necessary... it was just a small accident."

Cripes, what a mess I was. Here I was - in the middle of the biggest crisis of my life: Security Office bearing down on one side... Emily going nuts on the other... a missing dead girl right in the middle - and all I could think about was keeping this graceful little creature in front of me for as long as I could. I'm really a sap when it comes to a pretty face, I got to tell you.

I listened to the hackneyed words coming out of my mouth almost like somebody else was saying them. Once again that Nihil mouth was moving faster than its brain.

"I know, but could I... could I maybe buy you a cup of coffee?"

"Are you serious?" she laughed with a confused grin as she walked back toward me. "Do you always hit on girls you run over?"

"Only the ones that are running late."

"Late... oh, god... I am late... I'm sorry, Mr..."

"Nihil."

"Nihil... wait, Exnihil... the holo producer?"

"Yeah... why? What have you heard?" I smiled, trying badly to be charming.

"Listen... Mr. Nihil... I really do have to go, right now... but... um... this is really weird, but... OK, sure, why not... I'll get a cup of coffee with you. I usually go to Cafe Cramer after work, anyway. You want to just meet me over there, tonight?"

"Absolutely. I'll be there. What time do you get off?"

"Nine o'clock."

"All right, nine it is."

"OK, then." She smiled and nodded, giving a quick wave before starting away in a hurry back down the street.

"Oh... wait!" I called after her, "I don't even know your name..."

She laughed and called back, "I'm sorry... My Whee Fem."


My Whee Fem.

I started to smile as I continued to watch her trot away. This day was looking up. Before my smile even had time to fully form, though, I saw her take a left turn. She bounded up the same Security Office steps that I had just gone down not more than five minutes before. She worked at the Security Office?

Grife... I could just not catch a break.

Chapter 14

Ain't it always the way?

Guy meets girl... girl agrees to a date... girl turns out to be a flatfoot who'd just as soon slap a pair of cuffs on you as look at you. Under any other circumstances that last bit might actually be sort of fun - but not when you're the guy who's about one piece of evidence away from being the prime suspect in a murder case.


I padded away from the Security Office as the old noodle started spinning again. I was thinking I should maybe just blow off the whole thing and leave My Whee sitting by her lonesome later that night. The last thing I needed was to slip up and spill anything else that might get back to Matlock. On the other hand, though... who knew? Maybe chatting up My Whee might be just the thing I needed to get some inside skinny on where the Security Office really was with the Lotta case.

God knows I needed some news. My last best hope with Emily Sivana had just hopped a shuttle - bound for god knew where on Earth. Yeesh... what a nutty dame. I should have known that once she got on the trail of something big, she'd start tracing it back harder than a Kwai pathfinder. She'd been underground for a week without a word, then suddenly pops up with a lead to Eddie Stilton - the old "Blue Cheese Lad" from the Primary Color Gang.

Emily... what were you getting yourself into?


I started running down the list of folks I needed to keep tabs on. Junior... Tamper... Emily... Matlock... and now Eddie. My dance card was getting fuller than a contestant's at a Jandan shurg-off.

I tried the reconnect on my Omnicom back to Emily for about the twentieth time, but it still was coming back as unavailable. Her shuttle must have already flown and - if her bird was taking the express route - there wasn't any way I could get her until she passed through the solar radiation belt.

Well... if Eddie was all I had to go on, I figured it was better to meet him as soon as possible. I couldn't imagine how he could possibly be mixed up in all this. Sure... Eddie Stilton had been a crook and a half back his heyday, but he done his time years ago and was now a respectable Legion World citizen. If Emily said he had some info, though, I'd better beat feet and find out. The West Side was a bit of a hike from downtown, so I figured I'd save myself some shoe leather and make my way down to the nearest Nova Express station.

I was about three blocks away when I realized I was being followed.


I'd just pulled up my Com to try pinging Em again, when I caught their reflection in the screen. Two hulking guys were lurking behind me about a half block back, looking like a pair of gorillas from a Silver Age sci-fi cover. Could be I was reading it wrong and these heavies were just out for a midday stroll - in their matching trench coats with their hands bulging their pockets out - but "better paranoid then dead" is a motto that's always served me well. I started picking up my step.

As I starting walking faster, I shot a quick glance over my shoulder. Sure enough... the brothers simian picked up their pace, too. I knew this wasn't going to end well if I kept on heading to the station, so as soon as I reached the corner, I bolted to the right. Even as I started running, I heard their heavy footsteps following suit. I darted into an alleyway, hoping they hadn't turned the corner yet.

Wrong call.

I found myself face to face with the alley wall. Crap! I spun around, but it was too late. Tweedle dumb and dumber were already at the alley entrance blocking my way. A second later I heard the sound of a hover transport rounding the corner, as well. It pulled up behind the two and came to a stop. I gritted my teeth and was about to make a hopeless lunge into the two of them just swinging my fists, when one of the two spoke.

"Just take it easy, huh, Mistuh Nee-hill? Dis ain't what cha think. Da boss just says it's time you two had a chat."

"Oh, is that what he says? Well, you just tell your boss - whoever he is - that I've got nothing to say. Now, back off!"

"Yeah... he said you was gonna say dat. C'mon... Mistuh Nee-Hill. Don't make dis hard, kay? I just got my coat pressed. Just get in the transport and we'll all have a nice little ride, huh?"

"You're crazy if you think I'm getting in that transport. You just tell your boss I said... this!"

Against any better judgment, I jumped toward the one guy who was talking, and threw a punch as hard as I could toward his face. I must have slipped, though, because my fist connected squarely with his ear as I fell to the ground.

"Aggghhh! Grife! What cha do that for? Grife, dat hurts! Rocco... just get dis guy into the car, will ya?"

"Sure ting, Al."

Lumbering thug number two reached down and picked me up by the back of my collar like I was nothing more than a Venusian Sneep.

"Come on, you."

I spit at him.

"Aw, cripes! Fine! Da boss said not to do dis, ya little runt... so just considuh dis one from me."


I don't remember exactly how hard his fist connected with my cheek, but I'd guess somewhere in the neighborhood of "hard enough to crack a fusion power sphere," because... the second it hit... all my lights went right out.

I floated for god knows how long in a blackness that made midnight on Kathoon make seem like the kind of place where you'd reach for your sunglasses. I'm not sure how long I was out but - after a while - the dawn started to crack, as I came around.

I was still groggy as hell but, little by little, I started to sense that I was lying down on something soft, with classical music playing softly in the background. What was going on? I forced the old eyelids open like a post-crisis Kryptonian trying to push a planet, and tried to sit up.

"Ugh!"

I grunted, my consciousness coming back around and - along with it - the throbbing echo of that back alley thug's fist. Raising my hand to my face, I cradling my aching cheek-bone as I squeezed the fog out of my head and looked around.


Where the hell was I?

The first thing that hit me was how expensive everything in this joint looked. Every single object around me - from the velvet covered chaise I was laying on... to the leather library chairs flanking the oversized globe across the room... to the antique oak and mahogany woodwork in every last baseboard, wainscot, banister, molding, and any other corner or crevice - looked liked it cost about my salary for a year.

The whole room was bathed in a warm yellow fourth-dimensional light that seemed to come from both nowhere and everywhere at once. It gave the whole place the feel of being the most elegant - but inviting - room you'd ever been in. Whoever owned this joint was stacked and - given who the players were in my little drama - I had a pretty good idea who it was. The voice from across the room at the bar confirmed it.


"Ah! Mr. Nihil..." Tamper Lad called across the room, "... welcome back to the land of the living!"

Yep, sure enough. I had been waiting weeks for the other shoe to drop with Tamper Lad, but I hadn't counted on it dropping into my face.

"Whu...? What's going on?" I mumbled, swinging my legs around to the floor. I knew Tamper had my number regarding the whole Lotta business, but I figured that he had nothing on me that I didn't have on him. I decided to just play dumb for the time being until he said his piece.

"Apologies... I'm certain you're a bit disoriented after your little nap. You're in my establishment, the Evil Genius Supper Club . Don't let the name alarm you, though, it's merely an affectation... my actual intelligence is rated far above 'genius'. I notice you're admiring the room. This is the Balduurian Library, a room - I must admit - is a bit of a point of pride for me. Feel free to..."

"Ugh..." I rubbed my cheek in pain, already tired of this. "Can the grand tour, already, huh? What the hell is going on here?"

Tamper Lad grinned, pouring a small amount of brandy into a snifter.

"Right to the point, is it, Mr. Nihil? Very good... I admire a man of action. I would have expected nothing less from your reputation. I apologize for all the theatrics... I couldn't very well have sent you an embossed invitation, you know. Let me stress that I cannot apologize enough for the actions of my men. They were expressly instructed that no harm should come to you, but... the heat of the moment, and all that. Hmm... that eye does not look good, though, does it? I'm afraid our chef has already begun preparing the evening's dinner, so I don't think I would have any raw meat available to help... but, could I offer you a drink? How do they put it in those holos you enjoy so much... 'What's your poison?'... ha! I believe you are martini man, correct? Will Khundish vodka do... I have a nice 3002..."

"Just save it, all right? I don't want a drink, I don't want a tour, I don't really care what you think you're up to... you tell your thugs if I ever see them again, they better be wearing inertron vests."

Tamper Lad swirled the brandy around the glass, coating the sides, and clucked his tongue.

"Tt...tt...tt... now, Mr. Nihil. It won't do to have you issuing threats against my men. Those in my employ are amongst the finest of gentlemen, if perhaps a bit exuberant regarding their duties. In any case, I had formed a rather positive opinion of you, thus far. Let's not sully that with such talk, shall we?"

"Fine... whatever... so let's just get to it, then. What the hell did you drag me to your little den of overly-decorated delights for?"

"'What for,' indeed. That is the question, isn't it, Mr. Nihil?" Tamper regarded me for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. "To begin with... I'm afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage - not a position I'm particularly fond of, you must realize. Shall we dispense with the pretense? Let us say that it is not unknown to me that this past Klordny, you had occasion to meet with an acquaintance of mine... a young lady by the name of Carlotta Handsome?"

I played coy. "What... that sister of Junior's? Yeah, I met her... at the Beacon Restaurant that night."

Tamper Lad walked toward me, pulling a chair close to the chaise where I was sitting. He frowned and sat down.

"Mr. Nihil. I'm afraid I really don't have time to engage in games of amateur cat and mouse. I already know that you were due to meet her at about three AM that evening at her room in Zaryan's Palace. She told me as much herself... an arrangement regarding her family history, and a potential business venture for an exposé, correct?"

He wanted to start laying out cards? Well, I had a few trumps of my own. I was pretty sure that even though I had seen him in the Casino, he hadn't caught sight of me. I figured he had to be just fishing at this point, so I decided to see how much he really knew.

"Fraid not. That was the plan, but I never made it Zaryan's that night. And since Lotta turned up missing the next day, it doesn't seem like it's too likely that 'arrangement' is going to be anything more than a dead project."

Tamper Lad sighed and leaned slightly backward, removing his Omnicom from his breast-pocket. He tapped the screen and replaced it.

"I must admit, I'm disappointed, Mr. Nihil. Lies do not befit men such as we." The door to the Library opened, as a man walked in. "I believe you've met the most recent addition to my legal staff. Mr. Quislet... would you be so kind as to prepare our guest a martini... vodka... stirred, not shaken."

"Sure thing, Tamper. Hiya, Ex."

Kid Quislet smiled an apologetic smile at me as he walked past us toward the bar. So that was how Tamper was playing it, huh? Blackmail. He had Kid Quislet under his thumb, too - maybe playing on his gambling problem - and had squeezed out the fact that he had seen me at the Casino that night. Fine... two could play that game. I bit back.

"All right, Tamper... you want to start reciting history lessons? How about the fact that I know that you met with her, too, the same night?"

"Indeed... anyone who cared to take a look at my official itinerary would learn as much. The difference between our meetings, however, is that following my discussion with Ms. Handsome, she joined me for a short time in the Casino... departing in full sight of several thousand witnesses, while I remained for the remainder of the evening. That, I'm pleased to say, made for a very brief interview with the Security Office after which, I assure you, no return visits will be forthcoming. Are you in a position to say the same?"

I sat, looking at him without saying a word. He nodded slightly and continued.

"Hmm... yes... I thought as much. So. Here is where we stand as I see it, Mr. Nihil. I will tell you that Carlotta Handsome and I were in the midst of a very delicate negotiation - the details of which I had been planning for several years. That evening at Zaryan's was to have been the final meeting between she and I in this matter and... I don't mind telling you... I had invested a rather large sum of money in the outcome. Prior to her upholding her end of the bargain, however... she went 'missing'. The only person that I know had seen her after me... was you. So, you'll forgive me if I'm too direct in my next question but... did you kill her?"

"What? You're off your rocker, Tamper! Sure... I saw Lotta at the hotel that night, but the only reason I was even there is that I was working on a holo deal with Junior Handsome, but I found out it was Lotta that was holding the purse strings."

"Junior Handsome... ugh... do not mention that oaf to me. If it hadn't been for his foolishness, I wouldn't even be in this predicament. Let's be frank, Mr. Nihil, shall we? I am fully aware of the details of what Carlotta was going to tell you that evening regarding her family, but I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in that nonsense. Let the dead marry the dead, and all that. That is your business and I assure you, nothing we discuss here will interfere with your plans."

I was starting to get the feeling that this whole conversation was going off script. Tamper Lad sure wasn't acting like someone who had anything to hide, at least from me. I gave him a serious nod, as though his assurance to me was just what I was looking for before hearing more. He nodded back and continued.

"Good. We understand one another. Quite honestly... I don't care one whit whether you killed the woman or not. To be honest, Carlotta was an insufferable minx and it was only a matter of time before someone did, but... the fact remains that dead... missing... or whatever... my business with her remains unfinished. I do not take the loss of that amount of money lightly... nor the loss of what it was to have brought me."

"I'm sorry you got stiffed... but how does involve me?"

"Come now, Mr. Nihil, surely you must realize the position in which I find myself? Carlotta or no... this transaction must be completed. It seems I find myself in the unique position of being the one individual separating you from a very long appointment with the Security Office. From this moment on - until I receive what is rightfully mine - you are going to be serving in the same role as the missing woman. You are going to be my new 'partner'."

"Partner in what?"

Tamper grinned and leaned in toward me.

"You are a worldly man, Mr. Nihil, I'm certain. Tell me... what do you know of... The Middle Finger of Ekron?"


Before I could say a word, Kid Quislet appeared at my side, handing me the martini he had been preparing.

I swallowed it back in one toss.

"I'm sorry... the what of what?"


I might have thought this guy was off his rocker before, but this all but sealed the deal. Kid Quislet, seeing my skepticism, shot me a quick look - as if to say, 'just let him go on'. The Kid and I were going to have to have a long talk as soon as I got out of here. Tamper Lad grinned at me, swirling his brandy around in his glass as he continued.


"Ah... I see that I have caught your interest. Yes, Mr. Nihil, I speak of a fabled treasure - spoken of for years in hushed tones, rumored at times to be nothing more than a myth."

"But you know different, huh?"

"Indeed I do. I'm certain that a man of your caliber and profession must have heard some astounding tales in his day, but none - I assure you - as astounding as the tale that I am about to relate. Tell me... what do you know of the Khanate of Carthac ?"

"Barbarians or something, right?"

"A dismissive word, to be certain, but not entirely untrue. Prior to their latter-day incarnation as the religious zealots known as the 'Khanate of Sol Invictus', the former Khanate of Carthac was the most feared and aggressive of all the so-called 'Barbarian Hordes'. Their prowess and ferocity were legendary - leaving thousands of conquered cultures in their wake."

"Yeah, they were pretty tough."

" 'Pretty tough'? Mr. Nihil... they were ruthless! They pillaged, raped, and plundered with nary a thought to the cultures they overran. It was not until the rise of the half-Khund leader known as Dominus that the Khanate took on a more organized, militaristic bent and thought was given to more than simply their short term needs. It was Dominus who implemented the policy of tribute - leaving conquered cultures intact, but demanding that each pay yearly tribute to the Khanate. It was - in this way - that the Khanate of Carthac was able to ensure that their coffers remained full, and that expansion of their empire could continue unabated. Precious metals, fine silks, rare gems - all manner of wealth was soon flowing in as the spoils of war."

"Not a bad haul."

"To put it lightly. One of the worlds conquered under this new regime was the ancient world of Ekron. You may have heard legends of this world... the creation of rare objects of power whose very origins stretch back into antiquity. Let me assure you, Mr. Nihil, these tales are not merely legend... they are a matter of fact. Not schoolbook history, of course... not the type of thing you would read in the Encyclopedia Galactica... but history nonetheless.

"The Ekronians, no strangers to those who would attempt to wrest control of their secrets, devised a plan to minimize the tribute they would pay to the Khanate, while still giving the appearance of fealty. Each year, they would send as tribute a small piece of a structure they had named 'The Rainbow Man of Ekron'. The first year they sent a small piece called the Topaz Toe; the second - the Sapphire Sole; the third - Aquamarine Ankle. Each piece of this immense structure was - by itself - worth more than the entire value of some worlds, so the Khanate was more than willing to accept it... never realizing that what they were receiving were merely elements of something far greater.

"So it continued for years... until the late 2990's. With the growing influence of the religious cult of the 'Black Sun' within the Barbarian territory, it is fair to say that the attentions of Dominus became less focused on the finer details of the various tributes as they had once been. Emboldened by decreasing security, rogue band of pirates began to stage raids on errant convoys passing near the edges of the Khanate Territories. It was one such convoy that carried the yearly tribute from Ekron... that year, the Malachite Middle Finger."

"The pirates had no more interest in the Middle Finger than any other piece of booty they might have raided. To them it was merely another shiny trinket to be bartered on the black market. Suffice to say, the trail of the treasure from that point enters into several years of obscurity. Little realizing the value of what they held, the Middle Finger traded hands several times in the ensuring decade. Had it not been for the legends that persisted in the lower dregs of the underworld, one might have feared that this treasure was lost to the ages - the only piece of the Ekronian Rainbow Man still 'in the wild' so to speak.

"In 2995 it surfaced in Paris... in 2997 in Istanbul... then, for years... nothing. You must realize the allure of such a rarity to a man such as I. The value of such a thing - while immeasurable - was always, to me, merely a secondary aspect... it was the possession of the thing that fueled my imagination. Several times throughout the years I caught wind of the Finger surfacing, only to find naught but worthless baubles. It was not until the turn of the century, through the exploits of a dear acquaintance of mine, one Colonel Wellesley that my hunt began to bear fruit.

"While on an adventure quite unrelated to this current pursuit, the Colonel happened to meet a dealer in antiquities who told him the origin of a battle that had been raging for several years throughout the underworld, all centered around a criminal moniker which - I assure you, not coincidentally - shared its name with this very singular object of my pursuit. It had somehow come into the possession - quite by accident - of a small-time swindler from the Planet Kisom by the name of Shoc Kerr . By this time, the Finger had acquired a coat of black enamel to hide its true nature, resembling nothing so much as merely a fairly interesting objet d'art. Not realizing what the object was - Kerr was, nevertheless, inspired enough by its appearance to adopt the symbolism into his own criminal pursuits, operating from that point on under the nom-de-crime of 'Middlefinger'.

"Yes, Mr. Nihil... I see by your expression that you disbelieve me, but it is true... the entire Middlefinger criminal legacy was born out of nothing more than a charlatan's momentary fancy for a small statue he had stolen! Kerr, himself, was not to be long for this world, however. He came into conflict shortly thereafter with the Handsome cartel - an unhappy turn of events that resulted first in his death, and then the passing of both the Middlefinger name - and the object itself - into the possession of the cartel head, Large Handsome.

"As I'm certain you are well aware, the 'Middlefinger' criminal legacy continues to this day - with felon after felon murdering the previous bearer of the name and assuming the mantle for himself. What has not changed hands among that community, however... is the object itself. Following the death of Large Handsome, the Finger became the property of his brother Molock, and the following Molock's own demise, that of his daughter, Carlotta.

"My hunt well could have ended with the aforementioned young lady... had it not been for the petty internal monetary struggles between she and her brother - your small-minded associate, Junior Handsome. Following their father's death, Carlotta kept close watch over the family's fortunes, keeping her brother on what amounted to little more than a weekly allowance. Of course, such an arrangement could hardly have satisfied the appetites of one such as Junior, who surreptitiously began to sell off various family possessions to supplement his own finances.

"Unbeknownst to him, however, I had already entered into negotiations with his sister for the purchase of a certain statuette. Of course, the woman had no idea why I was so interested in what she viewed as simply another piece of art, but the very fact of my interest caused her to set what she viewed as an exorbitant price. Feigning the attitude of a simple collector, I had negotiated a price which - while still meeting the demands of her greed - was far below what I would have been willing to pay.

"And this... I'm sorry to say, is where my tale goes horribly awry, The night of Carlotta's 'disappearance' I arrived at her hotel in good faith, the agreed upon sum having already been deposited in her account but, as you would have surmised... her portion of the arrangement was nowhere to be found. It seems that Junior Handsome had already brokered a deal through Spiffany Jewelers - not more than a day prior - to sell the object to a private collector for a rather tidy sum. It had already been delivered to the Jewelers, and shipped to the planet Earth via shuttle.

"You can well imagine my displeasure, Mr. Nihil... to be so close to the object that I had sought for years... only to have it stolen out from under me by such incompetence and ignorance a day before I was to hold it in my hands."

"Yeah... I guess not everybody can be a genius."

"You would do well to hold your tongue, Mr. Nihil... I assure you this is but a momentary setback in what will result in the Finger being mine. Even as we speak, the shuttle rests in orbit around the planet, held in customs for a period of one month before being released. For certain legal reasons, it is not possible for me to travel to the planet Earth under the present political climate. It was, to that end, that I... well, let us just say I 'insisted'... that Ms. Handsome was to serve as my authorized envoy, intercepting the shipment upon arrival and ensuring that particular crate was returned to Legion World under my rightful ownership."

"But... then... Lotta pulled a disappearing act."

"In so many words, yes. Now - as I have previously stated - the incidentals of Ms. Handsome's fate truly don't concern me. If she is dead... well... honestly, that is more your concern, and I leave you well to it. But - and here is where we may be of mutual service to one another - it could be arranged that her 'disappearance' becomes quite a bit less of your concern in the days going forward."

"You can smooth it over with the Security Office, you're saying."

"Not me, personally, you understand. But, it is not unheard of that certain pieces of evidence often go missing during such complex investigations."

"And in return, I go to Earth and make a stink about the shipment. It gets sent back to Legion World, and you get your dingus."

"We understand one another wonderfully well, Mr. Nihil."

"And what about this guy?" I nodded toward Kid Quislet, who had been sitting quietly throughout.

"Mr. Quislet is to be your companion for the journey to Earth. He will ensure the full legality of the arrangement and serve to protect my investments - both of them, as it were."

"Me and the dingus."

"You and the 'dingus', as you so eloquently put it."

"And what if I say no?"

"That would be a rather unfortunate decision for you to make, although a certain detective named Matlock would be only too happy to hear it."

"Yeah... I get it. Fine... say I do make the trip, how do I know you're on the level?"

"That is already underway. I believe you have a meeting later this evening with a young lady... a 'My Whee Fem,' is it?"

"Wha... How do you kn...?"

"Please, Mr. Nihil. Would you really have assumed that the Office of Security is that secure? I have my moles in all avenues of Legion World. Let us just say that keeping that meeting will do great efforts toward you realizing that you will be well taken care of in this matter."

"I guess you got it all figured, eh, Tamper?"

Tamper Lad took a small sip of his brandy.

"That is why they call it 'genius', Mr. Nihil."

Tamper Lad spent the next hour or so filling me in on the finer details of our little arrangement. He laid out when I was leaving; who I was supposed to be meeting on Earth; what to do if anything started going funny, but - the whole time he was talking - all I kept thinking about was the camelephant in the room... Kid Quislet.

If there was one thing I couldn't stand, it was a rat.

I get that things get rough... I do. Hell, I wrote the book on hard times. A guy gets in trouble he's willing to do a lot of things to make sure his head stays above water. But no matter how bad it gets, the one thing a stand-up guy never does is to start dragging other people down with him. Kid Quislet had crossed that line, and about ten others. Because of his loose lips, Tamper had me over a barrel. I guess they don't call lawyers, "mouthpieces," for nothing.


I played it cool, though. I let Tamper finish his spiel, just nodding the whole time like some comic book writer being told his story was being put on hold for a company-wide crossover. I thought the whole thing sounded absolutely crazy... but what choice did I have? If didn't play nice with Tamper and his crazy scheme, pretty soon I'd be taking a long Security Office-guided tour off a very short pier.

Tamper wrapped up, telling us to lay low for a couple weeks and he'd be in touch when we were going to leave. Then he called in his two goons from earlier to "escort" me and Kid Quislet out of the Supper Club through the back door so we wouldn't be seen. I gotta admit, as much as my old mug was still hurting from that one gorilla’s fist, it gave me a bit of pleasure to see the other one with his ear bandaged up. I might be short, but never let 'em tell you I'm not scrappy.

They waltzed Kid Quis and I out the back into an alley that opened back out onto the street. Shooting us a threating glare, they shut the door behind us, leaving the two of us standing by our lonesome.

It took about two seconds before Kid Quis started making with the gabbing.


"Well... I guess this is goodbye for now, Ex..." he started saying, "...I'm sorry that you got dragged into all thi..."

I didn't even let him get the words out before making my move. I lunged for his lapels and went to slam him up against the alley wall. I must have misjudged the angle, though, because he slipped his arms under mine and busted out of my hold like it was nothing. I laid in to him.

"You're sorry, huh?! Well... 'sorry' don't begin to make up for this! You couldn't just keep your trap shut, could you? You had to give Tamper Lad a sprocking day planner of every Tom, Dick and Harry you ever ran into!"

"Ex, you don't understand..."

"Don't under... why, you...!" I cocked back my fist to take slug at his sorry kisser but, as I lunged forward to connect, he threw his arm up, deflecting my punch. The only thing my fist wound up connecting with was the wall.

"Grife!"

"Oh my god... Ex! Are you OK?"

I held my hand underneath my arm. I could tell it wasn't broken, but it hurt like hell. Add another thing to the list of body parts that were getting a beating today.

"Fancy moves for a suit, Kid! They teach you that in law school?"

"I used to do some boxing back in the day... just muscle memory, I guess. Listen, Ex... I am sorry you got roped into this, but you really don't understand."

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you better start spilling, then. That's your specialty, ain't it?"

Kid Quislet looked at me with what almost seemed like pity in his eyes. He paused a moment like he was thinking, then seem to deflate a little as he let out a sigh. He nodded, but then silently pointed - first to his ear, then to the door that we just got ejected from. Yeah... of course. We couldn't talk here - Tamper had made it pretty clear he had eyes and ears everywhere. Kid Quislet started walking out of the alleyway, making like he wanted me to follow him. Cooling off a little, a swallowed a bit of my prideand let him lead on.

He led me up a couple blocks toward the nearest Nova Express station. Yeah, that made sense, I suppose. Nova had a lot of problems in the past with their internal coms getting disrupted by all the Omnicom traffic so, a couple years back, they started sending out disrupter pulses around their stations, making sure the only broadcasts that could clear were their own. It made the whole area an outside-com dead zone - perfect for anybody looking to have a private chat without any prying ears.

I didn't know what Kid Quis was planning on laying on me, but - whatever it was - he must have had a pretty good reason for not wanting Tamper to find out.

Turns out it was the best reason of all.


We rolled into the station as Kid Quislet started scouting out the departure waiting rooms for one that was empty. He spied one and pulled me in, hitting the auto-door close button behind us.

He wasted no time. With a hurried look on his face, he leaned in close and started laying out a story that I swear I wouldn't have seen coming even if it had been decked out with all the flags of the United Planets.

"All right, Ex... You seem like a nice guy so I'm going give you the straight story, OK? I'm risking a lot by even doing this, so I'm only going to go through this one time. If anybody calls you on it, I'll deny it until the day I die and leave you hanging, you understand?"

"Seems you've done a pretty fair job of that already."

"Just hear me out, OK? That night you saw me at Zaryan's Casino... that night that Handsome girl went missing? Well... I feel like you already figured as much out, but... I'd been there the whole night, OK? I never went with Quislet Esq. and the other guys to the Vudoo Lounge that night for Klordny."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Yeah... I had that pegged from the second I saw you. I seen enough guys get that look you had in your eyes to know when I'm looking at a guy with a gambling problem. How deep you in for? Is that how Tamper looped you into this... blackmail?"

Kid Quislet smiled and shot a quick look around. He leaned in a bit closer and continued. "That's just it, Ex... I don't have a gambling problem, at all. I don't even like casinos. The whole thing is just an act."

My face must have screwed up tighter than a lug wrench on Nullport because the Kid let out a quick laugh. He smiled and continued.

"I know, I know... this is probably going to be the craziest thing you hear all day and - trust me - after that 'Ekron' nonsense with Tamper Lad, that's saying something, but... I feel like if this is going to work, you've got to know. The truth is... I'm undercover. Quislet Esq.'s boys are working together with the Security Ofiice to bust Tamper Lad's organization wide open. I'm a mole."

"A mole? You're a mole? You seriously expect me to believe that? Buddy, I'm in the holo business. I know when somebody's acting, and... that night at Zaryan's... that was the real thing. Cut the crap, huh? What the hell is going on here?"

"I swear, Ex... I'm completely on the level. The Security Office has been working for years to try to get an inside man into Tamper's organization. When it came to light that there were crooked officers inside the Office on Tamper's payroll, they knew it was time to take a more aggressive approach. It couldn't be somebody inside the Office, of course... Tamper Lad would get word of that right away. It had to be a civilian."

I shook my head. "So why you?"

"The Office figured the best way in was using somebody in Quislet Esq.'s Firm. Tamper has nothing if not legal troubles... you heard him say that he's not even allowed to go to Earth anymore. The Office figured that an attorney with money troubles would be a piece of bait Tamper couldn't resist. On the one hand, it would be easy picking for him... the Office has been dealing Tamper long enough to know that a key part of his M.O. is blackmail. On the other hand, once somebody did get in, who better than somebody intimately familiar with the law to make sure that everything was above board and that they could make a clean case?"

"And, so... what? They just put you out there to start playing the slots? Start racking up enough debt that Tamper gets wind of it and just hope he acts on it? That seems like a pretty big gamble... no pun intended."

The Kid grinned again. "It's a little more involved than that, but we don't really have time to go into all the niceties of the operation right now, but - long story short - you're in the middle of a sting operation."

This was too much for me to process. My head was swimming faster than a Devilfish and I didn't even know what to ask next. I wound up just making a blind stab at the part of the whole thing closest to me.

"And... and Lotta? How does she fit into this?"

"Lotta Handsome? You got me, Ex. I never even met the girl. I've been trying to bait Tamper Lad for a while, but it wasn't until she went missing that he finally made his move. With her out the picture I guess he needed somebody to see through this whole Ekron deal - somebody that he didn't have any real connection to if the deal wound up going south, I suppose. He approached me two days after Klordny saying that if I took this job on - and provided all assurances to Quislet Esq.'s Firm that it was on the up and up - that he could make my 'debt' disappear. I was in."

"Except for one little detail, right? Me."

"Ex, you've got to believe me when I tell you that part was just an honest mistake. I had no idea that he was looking for you - or that either of you were mixed up in this Handsome thing. When he was laying out the deal for me, I mentioned that I saw him at Zaryan's on Klordny, and accidentally mentioned that I'd seen you, too. As soon as I said it, though, his eyes lit up and I knew I made a mistake. I'm so sorry."

"Well, 'sorry' don't exactly keep me out of cuffs though, does it, Kid?"

"Tamper Lad said he was taking care of that for you, though. I won't do anything to mess that part up for you. You've got my word that I won't mention a single word of that conversation to the Security Office. Let them ferret out their own moles, right? I never even heard that conversation tonight, OK?"

"Why on earth would you do that? That seems a little shady for somebody supposed to be working for Johnny Q. Law."

Kid Quis shrugged. "I don't know. The fact is - I like you, Ex. You've always been square with me, you know? You cut me in on that whole 'Primary Color Gang' holo deal a few years ago, and that really helped me get a leg up in the Firm. I know you're in a rough spot right now, but I don't believe for a second that you could have done anything to that girl. Who knows if anything even happened to her, right? She might have just run out on her own. I mean... you didn't kill her, right?"

"That's what everybody keeps telling me."

"Fine. That's good enough for me. Whatever went on with you and her, that's none of my business. You'll be all right, you'll see... and, once we get done with this Tamper Lad business, so will I. You've got nothing to worry about."

I looked at Kid Quislet. He was absolutely right - even after everything with Tamper Lad, this was the craziest thing I'd heard all day.


But - as I'd find out just a couple hours later - the day was still young.

I hopped next train uptown, leaving Kid Quislet at the station. There'd be plenty of time over the next few weeks - before we headed to Earth - where I'd be able to drill him for more details about this whole Security Office thing, but right now I didn't think the old melon could take any more twists.

Kid Quis was a mole... or so he said. I gotta admit, I thought the whole story had more holes than a Vrygan's travel itinerary, but I was in no mood to sort it all out right then. I'd been beat up, knocked out, lied to, blackmailed, and had my fist become best friends with a brick wall. I was tired, dirty, and in too much pain to keep going like this for much longer. What I needed right now was my own place - and a little while to think.


I made it back uptown on the train, and somehow stumbled my painful way over to my flat. I scanned my keychip, as the door shushed open and I was greeted with the sound of my room-com beeping. Not now - whoever it was would just have to wait.

"Room-com disconnect. Send all calls to messaging."

The beeping stopped. With a groan, I stripped off my jacket and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Cripes... that thug had given me quite a shiner. I raised my hand to my cheek to rub it, and saw how cut up my hand looked in the reflection. Oh well, at least I was a matched set.

With an achy effort, I stripped off the rest of my clothes and climbed into the sonic-shower. I punched up my preferences as the sound waves started pouring over me in a warm relaxing rush. Oh, yeah... I needed this.


What a day.

Twenty-four hours before I would of thought my biggest trouble was going to be dodging the Security Office long enough for Emily to come up with something solid enough for me to skate out on the whole thing permanently. Now she'd flown the coop, and was trucking off on a shuttle for god only knew where on Earth, without me having the slightest clue what she was up to.

The only guy I knew for certain might have had some connection to the whole Lotta business - Tamper Lad - turns out to think that I'm the one who did her in... but doesn't even care if I did. Instead, he just wants to use my own bad spot to blackmail me into acting as his personal delivery boy - tracking down some jewel that half the galaxy doesn't even think exists.

Meanwhile - I got this lawyer, Kid Quislet, telling me to just go along with this crazy scheme 'cause it's all part of this big sting that the Security Office has rigged up to nail Tamper to the wall. And the best part - this legal eagle says that he's really a double agent, playing at being a gambling fiend to trick Tamper into letting him in on it.

To top it all off, the one good thing that does happen to me today - meeting that cute little gal, My Whee Fem - turns south when I find out that she works at the Security Office, too. But I can't just skip out on meeting her because then Tamper tells me that she's got some info that's gonna be the key to solving all my worries about being a suspect.

Everybody's got info, it seems.

Everybody but me - the guy that keeps getting bounced around more than that delivery boy who accidentally grabbed the wrong bottle at the robo-gladiator match. If only Emily could have kept me in the loop, I wouldn't have felt like I was just falling without a net. If only she would have given me something to...

Crap.

Blue Cheese Lad! Emily said I was supposed to head up to the West Side to talk with Eddie Stilton - but then, right after, I got jumped by those two gorillas of Tamper's.

I jumped out of the shower and looked at the clock. Eight at night. I was supposed to meet My Whee at nine at Cafe Cramer. There was no way I could make it all the way up to Stilton's joint, and still make it back in time for that. Oh well, Eddie... it looked like your cheese would just have to keep aging for a little while longer. Given the choice between spending the evening with an eighty year old ex-con who might have a tip for me, and a beautiful young gal who I knew would, my decision was easier than that of a Daxamite at a filling station figuring out if he should go with unleaded.

I wrapped up my hand in a plasti-bandage, threw on a fresh set of clothes, and started beating feet down to Cafe Cramer.



Cafe Cramer's always has such a warm look about it - a nice glow that sort of sets it off from the other buildings around it - like it's saying, "Yeah... we know you're having a rough one. Come on in, have a cup, and forget all about it." Right about then, that's just what I needed to hear.

I walked across the street, as the patrons inside started getting clearer through the plate-polymer window up front. It took a moment, but I spied My Whee sitting on a small couch over by the side wall. She was sitting sort of curled up, with her legs underneath her, looking like she was deep into something she was reading on her Omni-pad. She looked just as beautiful as she had earlier outside the Security Office - even more so, if that was possible, sitting there all relaxed with her guard down.

Man. In another life... in another time... this was exactly the type of girl that I'd go for, but - right now - things were so messed up I didn't even know why I had asked her to come. Old habits, I suppose. But when Tamper Lad had said that I absolutely should keep this meeting - that she would have info about the Lotta case that would help me out - well... I'm not one to talk about things like fate, but, on the other hand, I'm not one to spit in its face, either.

I took a deep breath, and opened the door as the chimes jingled.

"Wanna know how it ends?"


I smiled at My Whee Fem, pulling an easy chair up closer to the couch she was sitting on. She looked up from her Omnipad, a little confused.

"I'm sor... oh... Mr. Nihil! Oh, I am so sorry... I completely forgot that I was supposed to meet you tonight."

"Aw, that's all right..." I grinned, my heart sinking a bit, but playing it off with a joke, "I forgot about it, too. I just accidentally walked in this joint thinking it was the off-track betting parlor for the Kangabronc races. I was just about to ask what a pretty girl like you was doing in a place like this."

She sat up, closing down her pad. That relaxed attitude that I noticed through the window was fading fast as she started putting on her public face. "I am sorry, though. I've just had the most insane day, and I wasn't... oh, god... your face!"

I sort of half-chuckled, as she did a double take at my black eye. "Now, that's what every guy wants to hear."

She laughed a little self-consciously, putting her hand to her mouth. Damn, this gal was cute.

"I didn't mean..."

"I'm just giving you the business, kid... you can probably tell I had a pretty interesting day, myself."

"Are you OK? Does it hurt... what happened?"

"It's nothing... I just got hit by a stray cross beam saving a bunch of orphans out of a burning building. All in day's work, you know." When I said the word, "orphans," I could have sworn I saw her tense up a bit, but - before I had a chance to say anything else - one of Cramer's barrista girls sidled up beside us with an order-scanner.

"Hello, sir... what can I get started for you?"

"Start...? Oh... just a cup of drip. Black."

The barrista tapped in my order and walked away, as My Whee smiled slightly at me, "Cup of drip? That sounds like something they say in one of those holos you make. You don't go out for coffee much, do you?"

"Yeah, no... well... once in while, you know. I just..." I started fumbling a little over my words. It's not usually like me to get like that, but there was something about My Whee that put me a little off balance.

"Relax... I'm just giving you the business, 'kid'."

Nice.

This girl had my number. She smiled at me and went on, "Seriously though, what did happen to your eye?"

"The eye? Aw... don't fret it. I just took a bad step in my flat. It looks a lot worse than it is. You should see the door. Sorry to hear that you had a bum day, too, though. Everything OK?"

"Ugh," she shook her head, and briefly rubbed her temples, "Just work stuff."

"You work over at the Security Office, right?"

"Yeah, how did you... ? Oh, of course... you ran me over there today."

"How else was I gonna meet you? So, what happened... bad guy get away or something?"

She let out a disgusted breath. "Let's hope not. It's really just impossible is the thing, though. I know I filed it exactly to protocol."

"Sorry... you lost me, there."

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this - it's just boring office routine - but, I'm an Evidence Handler at the Security Office. There was just some information that one of the detectives has been holding on - a backtrace on an Omnicom for this missing persons case. Well, it finally came in last night, but he was already gone for the day, so I just filed it on the overnight. When I went to retrieve it this morning, though... nothing! No file, no receipt invoice, not even a sequencing gap where it would have been. It's like it didn't even come in."


I leaned back in my chair, still listening to My Whee but my mind - of course - racing back to Tamper Lad. So that's how he was playing it. He knew - even before he talked to me - exactly what he'd need to do to get me to play along. That's why he waited so long to make his move. He wanted to intercept the backtrace and have it in his palm before he nabbed me.

There was no way he could have known that I would accidentally run into the very person that was supposed to be handling that evidence, though.

Was there?

No... now I was just being paranoid. Me running into My Whee had to have been a coincidence that Tamper just exploited for the maximum theatric effect. He was playing a great game of 3-D chess, but I was just his pawn.


I figured I'd better be up front as soon as possible if I ever stood a chance of seeing My Whee again. I cleared my throat and asked, "So, uh... this 'missing person'... it wouldn't happen to be a gal named Lotta Handsome, would it?"

"Wh... how did you..."

"I was working a holo deal with her brother, and I saw her the night she went missing. That detective friend of yours - Matlock I'm guessing, right? He came by to ask me a couple questions right after, and he mentioned that whole Omnicom thing."

"Ah... then you know how long he's been waiting on this. Did you know her well?"

"No, I just met her that night, but she..."

"I'm sorry... could you hold that thought for just one second?" She reached down to her own Omnicom that was buzzing with a new message. She looked down to read it, then pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, Mr. Nihil... it looks like we'll have to get that coffee some other time. I'm getting called into something over on the West Side."

"No problem, I get it. A badge's job is never done. Hey, wait a minute, though... I've got to head over to the West Side tonight, myself." I figured if I was gonna get stiffed on the date, I might as well just head over to Eddie Stilton's that same night, and maybe squeeze out a few more minutes with My Whee in the bargain. "You want to split a ride?"

"Thank you... but I have my own hover right around the corner. I could give you a ride if you like, though."

"Hey, that'd be great, thanks. So... what's the big rumpus tonight that's got the Security Office calling all cars?"

My Whee stood up, packing up her Omnipad. "I'm not sure... there weren't a lot of details in the message but, apparently there's been some sort of accident. They've already taken the man to Medicus, but they've locked down the site. It's one of the old members of the Primary Color Gang. Have you ever heard of the Blue Cheese Lad... Eddie Stilton?"

I watched My Whee Fem sitting silently behind the controls as she barreled her hovercraft toward Eddie Stilton's place.

I wanted to say something to her - but the determined look on her face as she drove through the night made me think that she was deep in thought. I figured I should let her break the silence if she wanted. Fact of the matter was, right about then, my own mind was swimming faster than a Tritonian merman.

Why hadn't I listened to Emily? She had told me that Eddie was the one guy in this whole mess that could of helped me, but I'd thought it was more important to see My Whee - and now it might be too late. The old guy was laid up in Medicus and, with him, any chance I had to meet him in private. Sure, I could always pay a visit to him at the hospital, but I barely knew the guy, and that might look fishy. Little did I realize at that time, though, that it would be a long time before Eddie would be in any shape to talk to anybody.


We drove for maybe about ten minutes without saying a word before, finally, it got to be too much for me. I cleared my throat. My Whee looked over at me in the passenger seat and, for half a second, it was like she was seeing me for the first time.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Nihil... just lost in thought."

"Nah... that's all right. You can cut the 'Mr. Nihil' stuff if you want, though. You can just call me Ex."

"Certainly... Ex... I'm sorry if I'm being rude, it's just... well, I just haven't thought about that name in a very long time."

"Who's that... Eddie Stilton? Did you know him?"

"Yes... well... no... not really. I've never spoken to him. He probably doesn't even remember me... but I remember him. He was one of the men who worked for my father when I was a child."

"What... here on Legion World?"

She sighed wearily, like she was suddenly hit by a wave of sadness. I saw her eyes dart up to the rear projection screen like she was meeting her own gaze. After a moment, she looked back at me and I almost thought she was about to cry. She took a breath and continued.

"No... I'm not from Legion World. I was born on Earth. I came here after my parents were... after they died."

"Oh, hey... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, no, it's all right. I can talk about it... I want to. It was all a very long time ago, anyway. I was only five years when I came to the Legion World Orphanage. I don't even really remember much of my time on Earth."

"You said that Stilton used to work for your dad? Sorry if I'm out of line but, what exactly did your dad do? I thought that up until he got out of prison about five years back, Eddie Stilton was a crook. Did he used to be legit back in the day?"

"No. This was before his time with the Primary Color Gang but, trust me, he wasn't doing anything different when he worked with my father. I... I'm sorry, this is very strange to talk about this after so long, but... I'm actually the daughter of My Yeol Min."


At that name my jaw dropped open wider than a Bismollian tunneling out of a super-stalag.

Nowadays, you only hear that name pop up in those lurid late night docu-holos about "true-crime," but - at one time - the name, "My Yeol Min" was almost synonymous with the Terran underworld. He was a vicious crime lord out of the Sino-Koreapolis district of Earth and - at the peak of his power - it was said that the Chinese Tong, the Japanese Yakuza and the Korean Kkangpae had all been consolidated under his single rule.

There had been other crime lords that had risen through the ranks, but none with the level of blood thirst that My Yeol Min was known for. It was said that he had a standing offer of one million credits to any member of his organization that could not only personally kill a rival cartel boss... but who could also deliver him their severed head.

With that kind of power, it was only a matter of time before a rival family would be looking to knock you down off that throne and steal your crown. Sure enough, My Yeol Min met with the same end that he sent so many others to before.

It had been a young upstart member of rival gang - someone looking to make a name for himself in a big way. Although it was never proven, it was said that there must have been a traitor inside of My Yeol's organization... someone who had allowed this man access to My Yeol's private quarters. No name for the traitor was ever ferreted out but - somehow - this man had been allowed to infiltrate the sanctuary and had beheaded both My Yeol Min and his wife as they slept.

By the next morning, there wasn't a single member of the underworld that didn't know... and fear... the name of the assassin. It was a junior member of a fledgling crime family named... Molock Handsome.

Suddenly the world felt very small.


My Whee must have seen me sitting there, mouth open like a Vornian Maw, because she continued on.

"I take it by your expression that you must be familiar with my family's history? It's true - I'm a Legion World Security Officer who was born into a notorious crime family. There were a lot of people who would have paid a lot of money for that information a long time ago, but I think that's long gone. I was taken off-planet very quickly after my parents' death and hidden in the Legion World Orphanage where I grew up... just another forgotten little girl."

"But, aren't you still afraid someone will find out? I mean, why would you tell me this?"

"I stopped being afraid a long time ago, Ex. I learned the hard way that if I wanted to survive in this world - and not be a prisoner to my past - I had to take control."

I remembered the way I had seen her on the beach that morning, swinging that sword. Girl had a point... there wasn't nobody with half a brain that would try to go up against that. I nodded as she continued.

"But, all of that is ancient history. At least... I thought it was until a couple weeks back when I heard that Lotta Handsome had gone missing. Just because I've made my peace with the past doesn't mean that I don't still harbor resentment toward that family. Molock Handsome died a long time ago, it's true, but every time I would see Junior Handsome's name in the paper... or Lotta's... I would think of how he just got away with it. I don't know... maybe things have a way of coming back around. All I know is that here I am - handling evidence about a missing girl - and all I can think is how little I would feel if it turned out that she was dead."

At the word, "dead," I felt myself jump a little. If only My Whee knew the real story... that Lotta was dead and that I had seen her that night - done in the exact same way as My's father. What the sprock had I gotten into?

I cleared my throat and tried to be a voice of reason.

"Aw, come on... you don't mean that."

"Don't I?" She exhaled audibly. "Yeah... I guess I don't know what I mean. I'm sorry I told you all this. You must think I'm an insane person."

"Don't fret it, My... I know it's got to be hard thinking about all that."

"And now, Eddie Stilton on top of all this. Just too many old ghosts, I guess"

"Come on, now," I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder, "you don't even know what happened to Eddie. Maybe he just slipped and fell."

"Well... I guess we're about to find out."

She started slowing down the hovercraft, as we pulled around the corner into a scene that looked like something out a Braal-Imsk War docu-holo. The whole front of Stilton's building was sealed off with electro-tape and there were more flashing lights than the inside of a 20th century Coluan skull-ship.

My Whee put the vehicle into park-mode as a rapping came on the driver side polymer-window. She lowered the window and asked up, "What have we got?"

"It's pretty bad, Fem..." the voice from outside came, "...the whole joint is tore up. Stilton's already gone to Medicus, but it doesn't look good. He's lost a lot of blood. It looks like he'd been lying there for hours before anybody found him. I need you to get up there right away before anybody else starts touching things."

"Right away, Detective." she quickly climbed out, turning around to say goodbye to me, "I'm sorry, Ex, you'll have to catch another ride from here... I'll call you as soon as I can."

"Ex...?" The detective from outside lowered his head to peer inside the hover, as My Whee ran off toward the door of Stilton's place. "Well, well... Mr. Nihil... just the guy I've been looking for!"


You always did have a way of hitting a guy when he was least expecting it, Matt.

I climbed out of the hover, gearing up to meet you for round two.

"Sweet kid, isn't she?"

I watched My Whee disappear into the front door of Eddie Stilton's place, then turned to face you.

I gotta admit, Matt, it struck me a little odd that you'd call the gal who'd lost the evidence for your case a "sweet kid," but - if this day had taught me one thing - I wasn't taking anything for granted.


"I wouldn't know, Detective Matlock. I only just met her today. We were just grabbing a cup of coffee together when she told me she had to dart over here. I was heading this way anyway, so I just hitched a ride over."

"Is that right? Just met her... and already she slugged you? You've certainly got a way with women, Mr. Nihil."

As usual, I had no idea what you were talking about - but I was getting pretty used to that fact. Conversations with you always seemed to have more angles than a stack of tesseracts.

"I'm sorry... who slugged who?"

"Ah... I'm just kidding you," you pointed up to your eye, "It's just the shiner... how'd you pick up that beauty?"

"Old war wound... acts up around cops."

"Come on, now... there's no call for that. I'm just giving you a hard time. My Whee Fem, though - you ought to be careful with that one - she's a tough cookie. I should know, my wife is the exact same way. The stories I could tell you about Mrs. Matlo..."

"Another time, perhaps."

"Of course, of course... I'm sorry... I know you're a busy man. So, what brings you to this end of town so late?"

"Just meeting a backer later on at the Beacon," I lied.

"Always living the life, eh, Mr. Nihil? Who is it this time?"

"Sorry, I can't really discuss deals that are still ongoing."

"I understand... I understand completely. It is funny that I should run into you tonight, though. You see... I've got a bit of a problem and you're just the guy that I think can help me out."

"I already gave my statement about the Handsome case at the station this morning."

"Good... that's good. But this isn't really about the Handsome case... it's about this craziness going on right here," you shot a thumb back toward the cordoned off building. "It's about Eddie Stilton."

"So, what happened to the guy?"

"Now, Mr. Nihil... I can't really discuss cases that are still ongoing." You winked. I was really getting to dislike you.

"Well, I don't know how I can help you. I don't even know Eddie Stilton."

"Well... now that's not entirely true, though. If I'm not mistaken, the two of you worked together... on that... uh..." you paused, flipping open your Omnipad, "... on that Primary Color Gang documentary a few years back, isn't that right?"

I sighed. Nothing got by you.

"Well, I wouldn't say we worked together. He was one of the guys who was interviewed - but I didn't meet him personally."

"Is that a fact? Well... that's all right. It's not really Stilton I'm interested in - it's more what happened to him."

"Which you can't discuss."

"That's right. But... I wonder, Mr. Nihil... would you mind doing me a favor?"

I exhaled impatiently. "What do you need?"

"Oh, thank you... this will only take a minute... but it would really be a big help to me. Could you..." you reached into your trench coat, "... could you just hold this stylus for a second?"

I reached out and took the stylus. "Yeah... and...?"

"All right... now just... just come at me with it. No... hold it up like this... over your head, and sort of... yeah... just pretend you're bringing it down. No... no, higher... and sort of bring it down like this... like you're going for my neck."

I followed your lead - not liking where this was going at all.

"Exactly!" You snapped your fingers and took a step back, looking like the parakat that ate the elvabird. "I knew it... sinister!"

"What in god's name are you talking about?"

"A leftie! I was thinking that the cut looked strange. There was no way it could have happened accidentally, but the angle looked off-kilter - down and to the right. Whoever had a go at Stilton had to have been left-handed!"

I literally felt the color draining out of my face. I didn't know what kind of game you were playing, but it sure as hell wasn't moopsball. So... Stilton had been cut in the throat. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that you already knew how the attack happened, so this little demo had to have been just for my benefit.

Did you know about Lotta? And why this whole cat and mouse routine? I had the feeling you could see through me like a Bgtzlian shower curtain. I finally lost it.

"All right, Matlock, " I said, throwing down the stylus, "I've had just about enough of this. If you've got something to say to me, just go ahead and..."

"Detective Matlock!" A voice suddenly called across the street, as we both looked over at the rumpled guy beating feet our way. I saw you roll your eyes.

"On your toes, Mr. Nihil," you said, leaning into me, "This guy's from the LMB Enquirer - Phil Marlowe. Guy's been bugging me non-stop for two weeks now about some crazy... oh, hey! Mr. Marlowe! How you doing, pal? How's the fourth estate... you keeping the lawn all groomed?"

"Knock it off, Matlock. Did you follow up with the rehab?"

"Good to see you, too, Mr. Marlowe. I don't know if you know Mr. Nihil?"

Marlowe looked at me briefly and - not even acknowledging me - turned back to you. "Did you?"

"Marlowe... if you can't tell," you pointed back to the scene at Stilton's, "I'm a little busy right now. I already told you, you've got to talk to Vice."

"Yeah... and Vice said I needed to go through Investigations. I'm tired of getting the run around, Matt! They're not going to release the names of their patients without an official Security Office order."

"Well, that's got to be a tough break, isn't it? Why can't you just leave that poor girl alone, Marlowe? Is this how your brother got his Pulitzer? Harassing celebrities about their problems?"

"I'm not my brother... and regardless of what they say, that girl is not in that hospital!"

"I tell you what, Marlowe... you see this guy here? This is Mr. Exnihil - he's a famous holo producer. He knows all the big shots. Why don't you talk to him for a little while? You guys should have a lot in common, you're both in the 'fiction' business. Excuse me, gentlemen... I've got some real crimes to solve."

"This isn't over, Matlock!" Marlowe called after you, but you were already on your way toward Stilton's door. He turned to me with a grunt, "So, what's your story, bub?"

"Me? Just the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. So who's this dame you're so hepped up about?"

Marlowe pulled out a pack of trigarrettes and lit one up.

"Hmph. Just a story I'm chasing down. She's not an actress or anything... just one of those high society gals. Supposedly - the night after Klordny - she checked herself into a rehab clinic out on the Outer Rim, but I have it on good authority that she never showed up there. She went missing en route... but nobody's talking."

"Anybody I might have heard of?"

"Maybe. You ever hear of the Venusian heiress... Angora Swetters?"