The Texas Twist Read Online Free PDF Page A

stock in trade. While Vic had grown quite a lot in the years of their association—he’d had plenty of headroom in that area—he remained intensely loyal to his friend, and admired the devious dodges and elegantly executed scripts that Radar cooked up.
    â€œI’m just thinking, we’re plenty well rolled now. There’s not much point in more of the same. After a while, the money just piles up.”
    â€œWhich is exactly what it wants to do,” said Mirplo. “Money loves company. It likes nothing better than to pile up around other money.” He thought for a moment, then added, “But, hey, look, if you’ve got a debt wish, I’ll be happy to make yours ameliorate.”
    â€œI’m not sure that word means what you think it means,” said Allie, who was well used to Vic’s verbal assaults on the English language. These were often synapse accidents, but equally often intentional linguistic mangles that Vic treated as twisted points of pride.
    â€œSure it does,” said Vic. “Vanish or disappear, like Amelia Earhart.”
    Allie chuckled. When she buried her knuckle into Radar’s shoulder blade, he leaked an aah at the sweet pain she produced. “What’s really up, bub?” she asked.
    â€œHow many perpetual motion machines can we invent?” he replied. “Do it long enough, we just become hacks.”
    â€œYeah,” said Vic. “Rich hacks.” He shook his head with exaggerated sadness. “Lamentable.”
    â€œWhat do you want to do instead?” asked Allie. “Something bigger?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Radar. “Bigger…different.…” The thought settled on him like a cloud, but he shook it off, for Radar Hoverlander did not dwell in clouds. He dealt in logic, practical aspects, cool analyses of best paths. Balance was a strength of his game. It’s what made him a top grifter and the three of them a top team. But there was so much more to him than that. His talents, like his interests, ran off in all directions, from reading lips (in several languages) to rebuilding engines, from free climbing to BASE jumping to that ancient mariner’s art of knot tying, macramé. He could pitch a tent in the dark, land a plane in a pinch, and, if he had a decent manual to work from, probably perform surgery. A polymath, they’d called him as a kid, and they imagined that he didn’t know what that meant. “Whatever,” he said. “I’ll think of something.”
    For a week now Allie had been looking for a certain opening, and when she saw this one, she took it. “I know something you can think about.”
    â€œOh,” said Vic, affecting a bored tone, “I already know this.”
    Allie’s eyes went wide. “You do?”
    â€œMy driving never made you sick before. You got the flu?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œEat some bad clams?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen…” Vic got up from the couch, throwing a whole-body shrug at Allie. “Tell ’im.”
    â€œTell me what?”
    Allie clasped her hands around Radar’s neck. “I’m knocked up, lover. What do you think about that?”
    A grin split Radar’s face. “I think that’s great, amazing!” He kissed her hard. Utterly without affectation, he said, “I am going to be the best dad ever.”
    â€œAnd there you go, Radar,” said Mirplo. “All the more reason to keep up your game.”
    â€œNope. All the more reason to do something better. Be an example for the kid.”
    â€œIt’s the goodness virus is what it is,” said Vic. “I always knew you had it in you.” He jabbed an accusing finger. “You’ve shown flashes.”
    â€œVic, trust me: My morality is as frankly self-interested as ever.”
    â€œWhatever you say…Daddy.”
    Just then a dog ambled into the room, and this would be Boy, Radar