Soothsayer Read Online Free PDF Page A

galactic core. A few thousand people had remained on Cherokee, but it was as close to being deserted as a planet could become while still inhabited by some sentient life forms.
    The Mouse stopped at the post office and checked the various posters, hoping to find some mention of a missing blonde girl, but saw nothing but the holographs of wanted criminals. Finally she left and walked into the largest of the taverns, and waited for Merlin, who was trying to get some news concerning Penelope's family from the subspace transmitting station.
    The tavern was quite large. There was a long, hardwood bar running down one side of it, a handful of gaming machines in the rear, and a number of large round tables clustered in the middle. A trio of overhead fans spun lazily, recirculating the warm air. A holograph of a buxom nude brunette hung over the bar, punctured by hundreds of darts. The floor was covered with the omnipresent red dust of Cherokee, and traces of it seemed to hang in the still air of the tavern.
    The clientele was similar to most of the Tradertowns that the Mouse had visited, a mixture of aliens and humans, some obviously wealthy, others just as obviously poor, all chasing the dream of instant riches that life on the Inner Frontier always promised and rarely delivered.
    Two Lodinites, their red fur rippling despite the lack of air circulation, were seated at one table, playing jabob , a card game that was becoming increasingly popular on the Inner Frontier. There was a tall, emaciated Canphorite sitting alone in a corner, obviously waiting for someone to join him. The rest of the customers, clustered together in twos and threes, were Men. Some were garbed in silks and satins, with shining leather boots and sparkling new weapons; others, those who had not yet struck it rich, or, more likely, has squandered what they had earned, wore the dusty working outfits of prospectors. A couple of girls from the whorehouse next door were drinking at the bar, but by some sort of mutual understanding, none of the men approached them or even paid any attention to them while they were on their equivalent of a coffee break.
    The Mouse sat down at an empty table, spent a few restless minutes waiting for Merlin, and finally ordered a container of the local beer. It tasted bitter, but it quenched the thirst she had built up walking through the hot dusty street, and she quickly finished it and ordered another.
    A moment later Merlin entered and came over to join her.
    "Any luck?” he asked, sitting down on a straight-backed chair.
    "No. How about you?"
    He shook his head. “Not a damned thing. What do we do now?"
    "We do our act tonight, and then leave. This world's only good for one day. Hell, I doubt that I'll be able to steal enough to pay for our fuel."
    "And the girl?” continued Merlin.
    "She can't stay here,” said the Mouse adamantly. “She'll come along until we can collect a reward or find a safe place to leave her."
    "It had better be soon,” said Merlin. He got up and walked over to the bar to order a drink. As he returned and sat down, a tall, slender man turned away from the bar and approached their table. His coal-black outfit was carefully tailored and remarkably free of dust, his boots were made from the pelts of some exotic white-and-blue arctic animal, and he carried a small hand-axe tucked in his belt.
    "Mind if I join you?” he said, pulling up a chair, wiping a trace of red dust from it with a linen handkerchief, and sitting down.
    "Do we know you?” asked Merlin suspiciously.
    "I sure as hell doubt it,” said the tall man. “But I know you ."
    "Oh?"
    The man nodded. “You're that magician who hits the Inner Frontier worlds, aren't you?"
    "Who wants to know?"
    "My name's MacLemore,” said the man. “Hatchet Jack MacLemore. Maybe you've heard of me?"
    "I'm afraid not,” said Merlin.
    "Well, it's a big galaxy,” said MacLemore with an easy shrug. “No reason why you should have.” He paused. “And you're