The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds Read Online Free PDF Page A

those years, I kept promising myself that someday I’d go back home and tell Mother the real reason why I couldn’t stand it on Galcen anymore. It wasn’t her, it was all the rest of them, the Council and the Space Force and the damned Entiborans-in-exile. Mother let them drain her dry, year after year after year, and I could tell they’d do the same thing to me if they could … .
    She shook her head to clear it, and concentrated on keeping her ship on course.
    “I began asking questions myself,” her passenger continued, “as soon as I learned of the Domina’s death. And the first thing I heard was that the family’s footloose daughter had a ship of her own at last.” He paused. “I’m probably not the only person to wonder if the ’ Hammer’ s new captain got her ship on the promise of future services.”
    “Explains why people I’ve never met are shooting at me,” she said. “Any idea who put them up to it, Professor?”
    “At the moment,” said her passenger, “no. Later, once we’ve shaken the hunters off your trail, we can look into that.”
    She stole a second or so away from the control panel to turn her head and look at him directly. “‘We,’ huh?”
    “If you don’t mind the idea of assistance.”
    “I like the idea of improving my chances,” she said, most of her attention already back on the ’ Hammer ’s engine-status display. It still showed the same, but the steady thrumming—felt, more than heard—of the freighter’s metal skeleton had smoothed out a bit.
    She chanced easing the power back up, and added, “But what you’re talking about doesn’t come cheap.”
     
    Back on Mandeyn, a pallid sun rose over the streets of Embrig Spaceport, and the Freddisgatt Allee stirred to reluctant life. Massive ground transports trundled up to the loading doors of the huge warehouses, the heat of their heavy-duty nullgravs melting the ice that had formed on the slushy street in the cold hours just before dawn.
    If the Allee’s business day was just beginning, the Strip—that narrow, rowdy buffer between the docks and the stolid, well-behaved city of Embrig beyond—was only now shutting down its operations. The Painted Lily Lounge, like all the other establishments, switched on the CLOSED sign and swept out the last of the drunks along with the dirt off the floor.
    The door of the Lily’s back room slid open with a faint whine. Inside, Gades Morven the gambler sat alone amid the litter of the night’s business, practicing false cuts with a deck of playing cards. He looked up at the new arrival, a thin, dark-mustached man with a heavy blaster.
    “I wondered when you were going to show up,” Morven said. “There’s people out there who aren’t happy with you at all.”
    The newcomer shrugged. “You hired me. They didn’t.”
    “They may not see it that way,” said Morven, dealing out hands faceup onto the dark tablecloth. His pale grey eyes watched the cards as they fell.
    “Damn it, LeSoit,” he said as he dealt, “do you have any idea how many people saw their credits go out the airlock when Warhammer lifted off?”
    “I just do my job and draw my pay,” said LeSoit. “It’s not my business if people place the wrong bets.”
    “Well, you may have to make it your business soon enough,” the gambler said. “Somebody’s bound to claim I rigged the deal on this one, the way you stuck with that bitch from the moment she made port.”
    LeSoit’s dark eyes narrowed. “Your money buys you protection,” he said, “and that’s all it buys. Who I socialize with is my own business, and the lady used to be my shipmate.”
    Morven gave the spread of cards one quick, colorless glance, and gathered them up again with practiced fingers. He shuffled the deck and held it out for the cut.
    “Still, LeSoit, people are going to talk.”
    The dark man cut the cards and handed back the deck. “Tell them to talk to me,” he said. “I can handle them.”
    He watched as Morven,