The Prison in Antares Read Online Free PDF Page B

hardwood that constantly fluctuated in color from a brilliant gold to a deep, rich mahogany.
    â€œWhat’s over there?” asked Proto, indicating a narrow passage that three Bodorians were entering.
    â€œDrug dens,” answered Pretorius. “They had three of them a couple of trips ago, but I haven’t looked in maybe five years, so who the hell knows how many there are now. They don’t serve anything too exotic there. Can’t have a ten-foot-high Torqual or a two-ton Abegni deciding to tear the place apart.”
    â€œCould anything stop them?” asked Irish.
    Pretorius nodded. “See those little purple critters?”
    â€œI thought they were someone’s pets,” she said.
    â€œThey’re Phorudorians,” he said, “and those things that look like humps on their backs are natural weaponry that are every bit as deadly as laser pistols. Most of the clientele doesn’t pay them any attention, which gives them an immediate advantage.”
    â€œMost interesting security I’ve seen in years,” remarked Proto. “So how big is this place?” asked Irish.
    Pretorius shrugged. “Maybe fifty rooms, plus anything they’ve added since we stopped here on the Michkag mission.”
    â€œThey got a restaurant, too?” asked Proto.
    â€œA small one, just for Men and closely related species,” answered Pretorius. “They can serve intoxicants and stimulants to a hundred races, but the kitchen required to feed ’em all would take a building half this big.”
    â€œAnd this place has been here seven centuries?” said Irish.
    â€œProbably longer. They say that Santiago himself visited it in its infancy. That’s probably just a myth, but it sure as hell has been patronized by a few hundred dictators and kings, and more than its share of celebrities of all races.”
    â€œI’m surprised they cater to both sexes,” remarked Proto.
    â€œIt’s a big galaxy with a lot of tastes,” replied Pretorius.
    â€œAnd it’s been in business all this time,” said Irish, impressed.
    â€œRight.”
    â€œWhen did Madam Methuselah name it after herself?”
    â€œRight from the beginning, I assume,” answered Pretorius.
    â€œYou mean the first one?”
    He frowned. “The first what ?”
    â€œThe first Madam Methuselah,” said Irish.
    â€œThere’s only been one,” said Pretorius.
    â€œOh, come on!” she said with a smile. “She’d be eight hundred years old!”
    â€œThat’s right,” he replied without returning her smile.
    â€œYou’re kidding!”
    He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
    â€œShe must look like a moldering, desiccated corpse.”
    Pretorius smiled. “You think so?”
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    â€œSee that blonde who just walked over to the bar? The one who’s speaking to the Domarian?”
    â€œYes,” answered Irish. “She’s truly beautiful.”
    â€œWant to meet her?”
    She frowned. “Why would I?”
    Pretorius smiled in amusement. “That’s Madam Methuselah.” He enjoyed her surprised reaction for a moment, then signaled to the blonde, who walked over.
    â€œHi, Nathan,” she said. “You’re on another job, I presume?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œAnd that means you don’t want to fertilize my frail flowers?”
    â€œAlas, what I want doesn’t enter into it,” said Pretorius. “Madam, I’d like you to meet Irish, one of my crew.”
    Madam Methuselah extended her hand, and Irish shook it.
    â€œYou must enjoy brutally dangerous assignments, my dear. Our Nate has never accepted an easy one.”
    â€œWhich reminds me,” said Pretorius. “I need to speak to you, preferably not out here.”
    â€œMy office,” she said, nodding. “Bring her along. If you leave her out here, she may wind up working for