A Fistful of Dust Read Online Free PDF Page B

cheap establishment was beyond me and I deduced there had to be a reason. I believe he had made a contact in the bar and he remained until he could make the arrangements he sought. As to what, at first I merely believed his actions led to the forbidden liftwood groves. The High Martians are not above making deals.”
    “That’s as may be but they are at best pirates, at worse bestial, and not to be trusted. They are best dealt with through certain channels.”
    “Quite,” Highmore replied to Folkard’s comment. “Leading me to surmise that he met someone who already had those connections. The man whom Henry set out to meet was not Martian. I hear tell the…human spoke with an accent similar to yours, Miss Somerset.”
    “An American?” Annabelle expressed surprise.
    “Since the British established a colony here, you can rest assured the other powers are unwilling to simply hand control over to one nation.”
    “In as much as one can control a world or nation one does not ‘own’, or indeed a society one does. I am quite aware of that, Captain. While Mars remains the only source of liftwood, it will engender conflict. It is simply the British and the indigenous Martians I have mostly encountered make it all too easy to forget the others.”
    “One can hardly forget the Germans or the Russians. I hear tell there is also Japanese on the planet. And apparently at least one Frenchman.” Highmore looked to Arnaud.
    “ Oui ,” Arnaud said, smiling.
    “Well, the French do not concern me.” Highmore took a moment as if to build tension. “The Germans and Russians may be another matter.”
    “Germans and Russians?”
    “That is what I said, Miss Somerset. Henry’s contact was American, but as I understand from Hat’Kaashteek, the group of men the American dealt with spoke several differing languages that Hat could not fathom, yet there was one thing he did detect.”
    “And what is that?”
    “No matter the linguistics and apparent difficulty faced by the necessity of cross-communication, according to old Hat they spoke the argot of the mercenary.”
    “Hired soldiers?”
    “I’m not so sure I would go so far as to call them soldiers. More like hired guns. Those who would follow others for a share of the…bounty.”
    “And what bounty might that be?”
    “Good question.” Highmore fished in his pocket, producing a chunk of…crystal or glass. “It’s not diamond,” he said, bouncing a rock small enough to sit in the palm of his hand, but clearly weighty. “I’m not sure what it is, but the men Henry has fallen in with, believe it valuable.”
    “How then did it come to be in your possession?”
    “They apparently tried to pay old Hat with these some weeks ago. When he refused, there was a…heated discussion. During the exchange, several stones went flying into the scrub. The men gathered them but apparently, one was overlooked. The Martians found it, but consider it worthless and so do I.” The misshaped lump caught the light and looked alternately clear and pale yellow. “This could be the most valuable find of the century and I wouldn’t care unless I could exchange it for Henry’s life.”
    The comment gained him points in their estimation.
    “May I?” Nathaniel held out his hand. Highmore handed the stone over without further comment.
    “What did the American want with Hat’Kaashteek’s people?” Annabelle stressed the Martian’s name, as though making a point of refusing to use Highmore’s condensed version of Hat.
    “To trade. Supplies and liftwood.”
    “This suggests they have a ship.” Annabelle’s mind was working several steps ahead. “Are you saying there are already men on Phobos?”
    “Certainly. At least Henry that I’m sure of, his valet, and this American chap.”
    The stone was suddenly a great deal more interesting. Annabelle turned her gaze on Nathaniel.
    “You seem to have doubts,” Elizabeth said, her tone asking why.
    “Phobos is a moon like any other