B. L. Marchant

 

                                                                              

  

The Lizard and the Snitch

By George A. Ricker

© 2001 by George A. Ricker

        Jimmy the Snitch was in trouble and everyone on Little Rockpile knew it.

        The Lizard knew more than that. She knew where he was.

        But Liz wasn't talking, not about her kin. Even if the relationship was distant, family counted for something. At least, to her it did.

        Of course, it was no secret that Jimmy was Elizabeth Delgado’s step-nephew. Everyone who knew her knew that she had agreed to look after the boy when her sis and Jimmy’s Da, sis Jen’s new husband, had gone to make their fortune mining the asteroid belt. That had been two years ago, and the most recent flash was "no fortune yet, just a lot of hard work."

        If anyone associated with the Big Man suspected the Lizard knew where Jimmy was, she imagined they would figure out how to make her talk. Ben Romano’s boys had some nasty ways of eliciting information —— with variations on their basic techniques that could be especially unpleasant for a woman.

        So far they had left her alone though. Oh, there had been a few questions, and these days one or more of Romano’s creeps always seemed to be hanging around, keeping one eye on her and the other peeled in case Jimmy should show up. As if the kid would be dumb enough to come around the pool hall when he knew they were looking for him.

        The hell of it was that Jimmy really hadn’t done anything wrong. He had simply been in the wrong place at the right time and seen something he shouldn’t have seen. Unfortunately, with a talent shared by most adolescents, he had compounded the problem by letting someone else see him. Now the hunt was on, and Jimmy was the target.

        That nickname of his didn’t help any either. Never mind that it was left over from elementary school days when he had confessed to a bit of minor delinquency that got him and a few of his friends in trouble. He had taken most of the heat for that. The other kids just received mild reprimands. But they hung the moniker on him nonetheless. Well, screw ‘em. Liz knew Jimmy was a stand-up guy. At least, as much as anyone could expect a 15-year-old to be.

        "Damned kid," she muttered under her breath as she wiped the bar. Only then did she realize she had a customer.

        First she saw the hands, big and rough looking. Then she looked up into a face that was darkly handsome and highlighted by eyes that burned with a blue, smoky fire.

        The man was smiling at her.

        "Damned kid’ is right. You got one in trouble."

        She colored a bit at that. It was the bane of her existence, that tendency to blush at the slightest provocation.

        "No," she shook her black mane of hair, "not mine. Just someone I know."

        Then she smiled back at him.

        "So what can I get you. You here to shoot or just to watch?" She waved her hand in the direction of the pool tables. Five tables were open. The other 15 were busy.

        "Oh, I'll have a pitcher of beer and a rack of balls. I guess I'll rattle ‘em around for a while."

        Liz got the tray of balls, tossed in a few cubes of chalk and handed them to him.

        "Go ahead and pick your table. I'll bring the beer over to you."

        He nodded and started toward an open table in the back of the billiard parlor.

        It was then she noticed the battered case he was carrying. Even though it was beat to hell, she could see that it was made of hand-tooled leather. It was probably much older than the man carrying it, she thought. No one made leather cases anymore. In fact, no one had for many years. And the ersatz stuff just didn't have the same look. This was the real thing for sure and probably worth some bucks to a collector, in spite of its dilapidated condition.

        Once blue eyes had picked his table, Liz logged him in with a few keystrokes on the comp that started the clock running and turned on the lights over the table at the same time. She pulled a frosted pitcher and mug out of the box and drew the draft to carry to the table.

        She'd been called "Lizard" for as long as she could remember. It was a term of endearment her Da had hung on her while he was still alive. According to Jen, he had always said Liz was so small and cute she reminded him of the little green anole lizards that used to hang around the patio of their home way back in Florida all those many years ago. Liz knew damned little about Florida and even less about anole lizards. For that matter, she didn’t know all that much about Da or Ma either. They had both died in a shuttle accident on their way to work at the mining operations on the moon. Liz had been five then. Jen was 18.

        All she had left of them were the stories Jen had told her, a few faint recollections of her own, and a little money still coming in from the insurance settlement after the accident.

        Pitcher of beer in one hand and mug in the other, Liz walked over to the table. He watched her coming with more than casual interest. Well, she didn't mind. At four feet eleven inches and 100 pounds, she was a small, well-shaped package. And she had learned over the years that it didn't hurt to display that package as long as she wasn't cheap about it. Let the boys look, she always thought. It helps with the tips. And as long as they didn't try to do more than look, she had no problem at all.

        Liz had hoped to get a look for herself at what was in the case when she brought the beer over. But her customer had settled on a house cue that he found to his liking after trying out a half dozen, so she would have to wait until he decided to break the stick out.

        "Just give a shout if you need anything, mister. Name’s Liz. Although some folks call me Lizard."

        She turned and walked away before he could ask the obvious question. It was an old story, and she got tired of telling it. She could feel his eyes on her as she left. His weren't the only ones, but they were the only ones she noticed.

        The action picked up at the pool hall during the next hour. Some customers checking out, others coming in. Liz knew most of them. She had been a fixture at Curry’s Billiard’s Parlor for as long as any but the oldest old-timers had been playing there. Big Jake Curry and his wife ran the place at night, and the Lizard handled the daytime crowd.

        Curry’s was one of two real pool halls on Little Rockpile. There were others closer in to the hub that featured all sorts of fancy games that took advantage of the weightless or near weightless environment near the core. Curry’s was out on the rim where the gravity was about earth normal. The tables were slate, covered with money-colored green cloth, with the standard pockets and cushions. None of that 3D pool crap for Big Jake’s customers. Most said they found the game as it had originated on earth to be enough of a challenge. All the new variations relied more on gimmicks than skill. At least that was the opinion shared by the shooters at Curry’s.

        Big Jake had started the pool hall 25 years ago, not too long after Little Rockpile had developed into a viable space colony. Built to provide living quarters, mercantile and recreational facilities for lunar mining operations and the orbital factories that manufactured satellites and space craft from the ores mined on the moon, the colony got its name from the layer of lunar rock and soil that had been plasticized and put around the skin of the colony to protect its occupants from solar radiation. Earth's moon had long been called Big Rockpile by the miners who earned their living there, operating the equipment and maintaining the mass driver that was used to launch the ore pods into lunar orbit where they were collected and ferried out to the fabrication plants that shared Lagrange 5 with the colony.

        Jake Curry and his wife, Bette, had come out with the same group of colonists that brought the Lizard's folks to Little Rockpile. In fact the Delgados and the Currys had been good friends until the untimely death of her parents brought that relationship to an end. It was only natural that Jake would take an interest in Jen and Liz. What were friends for if not that? Besides, it was the kind of man he was.

        Meanwhile, his pool hall was a big success. With 20 tables, dart lanes and a full complement of arcade games, Curry’s boasted the "coldest beer and the hottest tables on Little Rockpile." Big Jake kept the prices competitive and the ambience as close as possible to what he could remember of the billiard parlors he had haunted as a younger man down below on old home terra. And his place offered something none of the others could match —— the chance to play Jake himself who had been thrice crowned as the best professional pool player in the world back on earth and was the undisputed reigning champion on Little Rockpile.

        It was said that Curry had won most of the money he had invested in the pool hall playing high stakes games with people whose skill was not equal to the task of beating him but whose egos wouldn't allow them to admit it. It also was said that most of the competitive players back on old home terra had breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he decided to take his winnings and his wife and depart for the L-5 colony.

        Almost seven feet tall and weighing close to 300 pounds, Jake was not a man folks trifled with away from the table either. Liz knew that one reason Romano’s hoods hadn’t been more persistent in their questioning was that they didn’t want to get on Jake’s bad side. Everyone knew how he doted on the Delgado girls. Jen and Liz were the only kids he and Bette had ever had, Big Jake would say. God help anyone who brought harm to either one of them.

        But for all of that, Jake wasn’t any more immune to a lazgun blast than anyone else, and the Lizard knew that if the goons thought she had the answers they wanted, they would come after her and an even dozen Big Jakes wouldn’t stop them. Jimmy could finger Romano for a hit —— at least that was the story going around —— and there just was no way Romano was going to let the Snitch keep breathing for much longer.

        Liz wasn’t sure exactly what her step-nephew knew. She had made a point of not asking. It was enough that he was jammed up and needed help. What she wanted to do was find a way to get him off the colony without Romano’s people knowing about it.

        All of this played across her mind as she waited on her customers and the afternoon wore on. Now and again she would glance over to check on blue eyes and to see if maybe he had brought the stick out yet. But he seemed content with the house cue. It didn't take long to see that he was a shooter though. He had a nice, smooth stroke. The balls dropped with a regularity that was almost monotonous.

        Of course, you never knew just how good a player was until you saw them in a game. Anyone could look good slapping the balls around with no competition at hand. And there were always some who made it a point never to look good unless there was money on the table. But Liz had spent nineteen of her twenty-four years hanging around Curry’s, and she could spot a shooter when she saw one, practice or not. This guy was good. In fact, apart from Jake, who could make shots that left you walking away from the table shaking your head, she didn’t recall seeing anyone better in quite a while.

        Jake and Bette showed about 5 in the afternoon. As soon as they came through the door, Big Jake nodded toward the office, and Bette took up her station behind the counter.

        "We need to talk," Jake said, once they were inside and private. "This thing with Jimmy has got Romano climbing the walls from what I hear, and desperate men do desperate things. Is the kid still OK?"

        Liz nodded numbly. Jake had told her how it was when the business with Jimmy first started three days ago.

        "Look Liz," he said. "Since your folks died, I’ve thought of you and Jen as my own, and I’ve tried to look after you like I thought your Da would have wanted me to. But I don’t feel the same way about Jimmy. John Marco is an all right guy, and I guess Jen must like him ‘cause she married him. But Marco and his son don't connect to me, and I’m not going to take the heat for either one of them. Now, I know you don’t feel that way, and I know your sis asked you to look after the Snitch, so I'm going to look the other way for a while. But you need to decide what you’re going to do and do it before Romano decides to really put the screws on."

        So far Jake had been as good as his word. He hadn't tried to pump Liz about what she knew, even when the security detail came around asking about Jimmy. They were investigating a homicide, they said. Someone had knifed a hooker up in the high-rent district. Almost got away with it, too, said the cops. Except that one of the crew working the incinerator at 4 a.m. that morning had noticed a shapely foot sticking out from under a pile of garbage and, after a little investigation, had found the body that went with it. They had heard Jimmy might know something, they said. Call us if he turns up.

        That had been the morning after Jimmy had showed up at her place, scared out of the few wits he had, blubbering that Romano was after him and was sure to kill him if he found him. A hell of a burden for a 15-year-old, Liz had thought. So she took him to a spot she knew where she thought he would be safe and started trying to puzzle out a way to get him off the hook.

        "I know, Jake. I know we need to do something, but I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of a way to get Jimmy earthside ... out of Romano’s reach. Problem is I don’t know how to do that, and I wouldn’t know where to send him if I did. My folks didn’t leave any kin back there. At least, none that I know about. There’s just Jen and me. Any ideas?" She looked at him hopefully.

        "Not really," Jake looked at her bleakly. "If he’s in a safe place the best thing he can do is to stay put. But you tell him he’s really stirred up a hornet’s nest this time, so he’d best keep out of sight. I know how kids are. After a few days, he’s apt to get restless and start taking chances. Don’t let him."

        He went on, "If we can figure a way to get the kid off the rockpile and back to old home terra, I’ve got some people down below he could stay with until either things cool down or his Da and Jen come for him. I’ll think about it. Meanwhile, you tell the Snitch to stay on ice."

        Liz could see something had changed for Jake. Before it had been her problem, and he would look the other way. Now, he seemed more interested in trying to help her solve it.

        "So ... Jake ... what’s up?"

        "Let’s just say I don’t appreciate having Romano’s hoods hanging around my place and pestering my wife. And I especially don’t appreciate Ben Romano calling me at 4 in the morning to tell me I’d better give up the kid or else."

        "Oh god, then he knows we’ve got him."

        "Nah," Jake snapped back, "he doesn’t know spit. He was running a bluff, trying to scare me. Well, I don’t scare so easy. I put in a call to Tanner Micks and tipped him that he might want to keep an extra close watch on Romano and his boys for the next few weeks if he really wants to solve that murder case we’ve been hearing about."

        Liz was relieved that Romano's push had put Jake firmly on her side, but she also was worried. Tanner Micks, the head of security for Little Rockpile, was capable of playing both sides against the middle. In fact, rumors had him working for Romano as much as for the rent-a-cop outfit that had hired him. Of course, Jake knew that as well as Liz.

        "I told Micks," Curry said, "that Romano must be in that murder up to his eyeballs or he wouldn’t be making such a nuisance of himself. Told him we didn’t know a damned thing about it, but that if I heard anything, I’d be sure to call him."

        "Yeah ... " Liz’s voice trailed off as she thought of it. It might work, telling Tanner that. First, it could make Romano think they really didn’t now where Jimmy was, and second, it might make Romano ease off - figuring if anything did come up, he’d hear about it from Micks anyway.

        About then, Bette’s voice came over the intercom, "Jake, there’s someone out here to see you. He’s a new face. I don’t know him."

        It was blue eyes.

        Jake and Liz walked up to the bar. Blue eyes was nursing a beer. With the leather cue case propped against the bar beside him.

        "Well, I don’t know you,"Jake said, "but I sure as hell know that case. Is the stick in it?"

        The younger man nodded and smiled as Jake walked up to him. Liz held back, curious.

        "Name’s Carey Smalls. Da said you’d remember the case. Said he’d promised you the chance to win the stick back. When he saw time was running out, he asked me to make good on the promise or, at least, to get it back to you." Smalls held out his hand, and Jake took it enthusiastically.

        "Yes, dammit, you do look like him now that I think about it. So you’re Albert’s kid. You know I saw you once, not long before I came up here. Of course, you were only about two at the time. I heard through the grapevine about the cancer. It’s a damn shame. Al shot a mean stick."

        Bette watched the whole scene with a smile of recognition on her face. Liz was totally bewildered. But not for long.

        Turned out that Carey’s Da had given a much younger Jake Curry a lesson in pool that he never forgot. It had been 35 years ago, when Small’s career was on the wane and Curry’s was just beginning to take off. Back then, Big Jake had been full of himself and confident he could beat anyone, anytime and anywhere.

        The two had met to shoot nine-ball head to head. No tournament. Just the two of them. By the time they had played several matches, Jake was down about $5,000 and out of cash. The stick he put up was hand-crafted by one of the best in the business. Custom-made just for Jake, the cue was inlaid with ebony and ivory and made with the very best woods and all the skill that Robbie Bonfau could muster. It was one of the last sticks Bonfau ever made. Its beauty and Jake’s skill with it had made the cue almost as legendary as the man who used it.

        Smalls hadn’t wanted to play for the cue, Jake said, "But I insisted. I was so sure that I could square it all with one more match. The stick was worth what I had lost easily, so I put it up. All or nothing. Carey’s Da said OK but under one condition. He would promise never to sell the cue or to bet it unless he gave me a shot at winning it back first. But he didn’t want to hear any crying from me when I lost.

        "He taught me something that night. When you let your ego make decisions for you, those decisions are going to be bad ones. I was young and full of vinegar, and I was so sure that there was no way that skinny little guy was going to beat me again. I should have walked away and planned on meeting up with him some other time. Because that night I don't think Al Smalls could have been beaten by anyone. I know I sure as hell couldn’t take him."

        Liz could see that Carey’s eyes were bright with pride and a little pain as well. From what they said the old man had been a fighter and the battle with cancer had taken a long time. Carey had stayed with him right up to the end.

        "Must have been rough," she thought. "If they had to go, I’m glad my folks went fast."

        Smalls put the case on the counter and pushed it in front of Jake.

        "This was the only burden my Da put on me, Jake. He said to get this cue back to you, whatever it took. He said he wished he could have played you for it one more time. He said you probably would have won it back with no trouble. He said you were the best he’d ever seen."

        Big Jake opened the case with reverence. Looking over his shoulder Liz could see the cue was indeed a thing of beauty. The ebony and ivory inlays had been worked in two motifs, repeated, Jake’s initials and a pair of dice. There were three shafts, each a slight variation on the other. And if the case was battered, the sticks looked as though they had just been made.

        "Ah, Liz, this is a sweet stick."

        Jake and Carey went over to a table to shoot, and the Lizard went back to worrying about her problem. Off duty now, she nursed a beer and watched the men shoot eight-ball. Jake won most of the games. But Smalls gave him a battle in all of them and managed to win a few himself. It was a respectable showing. There weren’t very many around who could have done any better shooting against Curry.

        She also noticed two of Romano’s thugs over at a corner table. The two were shooting nine-ball and watching the crowd at the same time. Every now and then one of them would look her way. Their oily stares made her skin crawl.

        "Think, Lizard," she told herself, "how do we get out of this."

        And that was the problem. It wasn’t just the Snitch. It was her and Jake and anyone else who got involved in trying to get Jimmy to a safe haven. There were plenty of people she knew who would be glad to help if they could. People who were friends of hers or who had a score to settle with Romano. But, apart from Jake and a few others, it was hard to know who she could trust, and she was reluctant to get anyone else involved because of the danger.

        Of course, none of that would matter at all if she couldn't come up with a way to get Jimmy off the rockpile. There was plenty of traffic between the colony and the transfer station in low earth orbit, and there were daily shuttle flights from there to earth, carrying both passengers and freight. The trouble was that Romano had people working at all the exit points on the colony, and there was no way to get Jimmy past them. He couldn't just book passage and leave. Not if he expected to reach his destination in any condition to enjoy it. But neither could he stay where he was. Liz was confident the hiding place was a good one. However, no hiding place could be a permanent solution.

        What they really needed was a way to jam Romano and get Jimmy out of harm’s way at the same time. Not that she especially wanted to tangle with the crime boss, but as long as he was on the loose neither Jimmy nor those who helped him would ever really be safe.

        Her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since coming on duty that morning. She started trying to remember what she had on hand at her apartment.

        "Well, I see your Da taught you to find your way around a table," Jake was talking to Carey as the two men returned to the bar. He packed the stick away with loving care, "We’ll shoot again sometime, but right now, I have work to do."

        Jake walked away, and Carey sat down beside Liz.

        "Eat yet?" he asked with blue eyes twinkling.

        She shook her head, "No, I was just thinking about that. Got any ideas?"

        "Well, I was wondering ... since I’m new here, maybe you would let me take you out to dinner, and you could show me around at the same time."

        For the next few hours, thanks to Carey, Liz managed to forget her troubles or, at least, to push them to the back of her mind. He was, she learned, a witty conversationalist, an excellent dancer, and an attentive companion. Later that night, after she had talked to Jimmy and passed on Jake’s warning about him staying put, she went to sleep with dreams that were haunted by the feeling of Smalls pressing against her as they moved together slowly, dancing to the rhythms of soft, romantic music, and the sound of laughter that was free and warm.

        Carey Smalls had come to Little Rockpile as the newest member of the management team for Autohuman Systems, Inc., the leading robotics firm on earth. Because of the work being done in the mining operations and factories with Waldos and robotic enhancements, the company had an extensive lab and construction facility in place on the colony. In the last few decades they had succeeded in automating most of the mining operations being conducted on the moon, which had led to some lucrative contracts with the mining operators who found that, no matter how expensive, it was much cheaper and safer to use Autohuman’s products on the lunar surface than to use human labor.

        Of course, the robots and Waldos still required human direction, maintenance and repair. Carey’s field of expertise was in designing the interfaces that made that possible. Had it not been for the illness and death of his father, he would have been on Little Rockpile months earlier, he told Liz. But, unlike some companies, the firm he worked for had insisted he stay at their earthside facility and spend as much time with his Da as possible.

        At work the next day, Carey found himself thinking about Liz, remembering the sweep of raven hair, the smell of her, the feeling of a tidy yet lush abundance pressed against him as they danced. He looked forward to seeing her again. Something was bothering her. He had seen it in her eyes during a few unguarded moments when she hadn’t realized he was watching her.

        "Don’t worry, Liz," he thought. "We’ll fix the problem. Whatever it is."

        Fixing the problem was very much on Liz’s mind that morning, as she opened the pool hall and prepared for the early crowd. Curry’s was open from 9 a.m. to 2 a.m. the next day, seven days a week. Liz, Jake and Bette all worked a minimum of 40 hours a week, with a couple of part-timers to spell them and allow for days off.

        Something Carey had said the night before had suggested the glimmerings of a plan, and she was preoccupied with it as she brushed down the tables and tidied things up before the first customers of the day showed up. Otherwise she would have paid more attention when the three men came in. By the time she glanced up, two of them were on her, and the other one was at the doorway, keeping watch.

        Liz managed to get out one yelp before a heavily muscled arm snaked around her neck from behind, yanking her back over the pool table, and a large hand closed over her mouth. The guy behind her was big, but the one in front was huge. A tower of blubber, he must have outweighed Big Jake by a hundred pounds. He pressed against her from the front, wedging her against the table, as the one behind her pulled her painfully back across it.

        "Don’t make a sound, Missy, or I’ll snap this pretty neck of yours," said the one behind her. He spoke in a voice that was little more than a whisper. His breath made her want to gag. "Ben Romano sends his regards. He wanted us to personally deliver a message, and the message is if you know where the Snitch is, you’d better give him up. Otherwise ... well, a pretty girl like you could just get all messed up, if you know what I mean."

        Liz was terrified. She could hardly breathe. Trying to free herself, she pounded her fists against the arm that encircled her neck. It was like beating stone.

        "Tiny, I don’t think she understands me. Show the girl what I mean."

        The giant pressing against her from the front put a huge hand on each of her breasts and began to squeeze and twist. He was obviously aroused and not too bright. Little moans of pleasure came from his throat and a bit of drool slid out of the corner of his mouth as he groped at her. The pain was excruciating.

        She tried to scream, but the hand firmly in place over her mouth reduced the noise to a series of whimpers.

        "Now I think you’re getting it," the whispery voice was back. "Tiny seems to like you. He’s getting all worked up over those titties. Maybe, we could arrange it so you could be his girlfriend some night. I hear he’s big all over."

        There was a whistle from the man standing by the door, and just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Liz crumpled to the floor as the two men released her —— Tiny somewhat reluctantly —— and dashed out of the pool hall with their companion. She gasped for breath, hammered her fist on the floor and cried in anger and frustration.

        That was how Alien found her when he came in for his morning session.

        "Lizard? You OK? What happened?"

        A strangled "Call Jake" was all she could manage, as he helped her up. Suddenly, she put her hand over her mouth and made an awkward, hunch-backed dash for the bathroom. She got there just in time. Once she had freshened up, she rejoined Alien at the bar, reaching gratefully for the cup of coffee he had waiting for her.

        No one on Little Rockpile knew Alien’s real name. According to the comp records, he was Alien Dodd, which everyone thought, quite rightly, was a fabrication. What they did know about him was that he liked to shoot pool and gamble, that he always seemed to have plenty of credits to pay his way, and that it was a mistake to mess with him. He was a wiry man, small and quick and deadly. Rumor had it that he had been some sort of government agent back on earth —— the kind of agent who got sent in on the black ops, the kind who took no prisoners. Whatever the truth of it, three fellows had tried to rough him up when he first arrived on the space colony two years back, and those fellows had been in the hospital for about a month before they were sent down below to old home terra, never to be heard from again.

        What no one knew, because he wasn’t a great conversationalist, was that Alien was devoted to Jake and Bette and Liz. They all had befriended him when he first arrived and had been staunch allies ever since. So, once Liz had calmed down, he asked a few questions. She answered between swallows of coffee, trying to be careful not to tell him too much, but telling him more than she realized nonetheless. As she told her story about what had happened, his face, which normally had a pleasant smile on it, settled into a stony scowl.

        By the time Jake got there, Liz was not so much afraid as she was angry. She spilled the story out to him, describing the three men in detail, pausing every now and then as Jake punctuated her account with a swear word or slammed a meaty fist into the bar top.

        "They scared me, Jake, and I felt so damned helpless."

        She stammered to a stop, face flushed with anger.

        Jake reached over and patted her hand.

        Alien looked at both of them, shaking his head. Alien Dodd spoke in what Jake described as "a forceful whisper." He said his voice had been damaged in an industrial accident. Others suspected it had been an accident of an altogether different sort. But because of it, and because he usually wasn’t all that talkative, when he did speak, people tended to listen to what he had to say.

        "Are we friends or what?" He didn’t wait for an answer. "I’ve been dealing with clowns like Ben Romano and his goons most of my life, and I’m here to tell you that you’re going at this the wrong way. This guy depends on your fear of what he might do. That’s what gives him the power. As long as the two of you try to keep it quiet and handle it yourselves, you’re playing right into his hands. And trust me, he won’t stop until he thinks he’s safe. Because, what you don’t understand is that he’s afraid too. You follow?

        "Now, here’s what we need to do."

        The three talked most of the morning, stopping only when customers came in and Liz had to go wait on them. By the time the conversation was over, they had the beginnings of a plan, and Alien had left, saying he had things to do but would be back that night to talk to Jimmy.

        Before he left, Dodd put an arm around Liz’s shoulder and said, "Don’t worry about this any more, kid. You just keep your eyes peeled and don’t take any chances. Jake and I will handle the rest."

        "What a strange man," Liz thought to herself. But strange or not, for the first time in several days, she was beginning to feel hopeful again. Maybe ... just maybe ... they could bring it off. The plan they had outlined showed promise. Of course, it was not without risks. What was? But with a little cooperation from a few people and a bit of luck, it just might do the trick.

        They didn't see Alien for the rest of the afternoon. Jake hung around the pool hall to keep an eye on things and to make sure none of Romano’s goons came back for an encore with Liz.

        By the time Bette came in at 5, rumors were flying around the colony about a couple of accidents that had killed one man and left two others seriously injured. Funny thing was that all three were known to work for Ben Romano —— some of the muscle he employed to protect his interests. Everybody knew accidents happened, even on Little Rockpile where folks were more safety conscious than most, but it did seem strange to have two serious ones on the same day, and really odd that both would involve Romano’s people.

        Jake and Liz heard about one accident from a construction worker who had stopped in for a few beers after work.

        "You know where we’re puttin’ in the new apartments down at the other end? Well, this big tub of a guy, they call him Tiny, was up in the unfinished section for something, fell off the scaffold, got tangled in the chains we use to raise and lower the damned thing and strangled himself. Nobody can figure what he was doing up there. Far as we could tell he was all by himself. One of the guys told me he said somethin’ about meeting a broad —— pardon me, Liz —— but there weren’t none around, except the gals on the crew, and none of them wanted anything to do with him." The speaker was named Tony Dolan. He was a regular.

        The other accident involved a brawl in a cathouse that Romano owned. It seemed two of Romano’s toughs got hard-nosed with a customer, and he put both of them in the hospital. Tony said he didn’t know their names, and no one seemed to know much at all about the customer who had done the deed.

        "Nah, they say he was on the small side, sort of oriental looking, and mean as a snake," Dolan said between chuckles. "Sounds like old Ben has some new problems. They say this guy, whoever he was, took those two down faster than Jake runs the table. Then, he just left. Guess he decided havin’ a woman wasn’t worth waitin’ around for."

        Liz was puzzled a bit by Tony’s description of the guy who had jumped Romano’s goons. At first, she had thought it couldn’t be Alien’s handiwork because he didn’t look oriental at all. Then she remembered that on the last two Halloween’s at Curry’s the little man had won the prize for having the best costume.

        "Well, well," Liz thought to herself, "Tony may not know who those two are, but I’ll bet I do."

        She felt a brief twinge of regret about Tiny. Then she remembered how he had grabbed at her and the look on his face. No, he was not someone who would learn from a beating, and he sure wasn't anyone who would listen to reason. Frankly, she was just as glad he wouldn’t be around. The thought of someone like him putting his hands on her again made her want to gag.

        While she was ruminating, a familiar voice said, "Miss, could I get a little service over here?" It was Carey.

        Liz blushed furiously, recalling the specifics of some of the dreams she had about him the night before, and took him a beer. Then, seeing that Bette was squared away behind the counter, she signed out and went around to sit beside him at the bar. She needed to talk to him about his part in the plan. Of course, he didn’t know yet that there was a plan or why, but after learning where he worked, she had begun thinking he might be able to help get Jimmy off the rockpile. Alien and Jake had both liked the idea. Now if she could persuade blue eyes –– and she thought she could –– they would be set.

        It was strange, she thought, how you could know someone for such a short time, yet think you knew them so well. She was certain she could trust Carey, even though she had only met him yesterday. Besides, he was her best hope for getting the Snitch to safety.

        But Liz was still being as careful as she could be. She wasn't telling anyone where Jimmy was. That little bit of information was hers and hers alone. Well, sis Jen probably would have figured it out, if she were here. After all, it had been her that had found the place all those years ago –– a place where two young girls could hide and share secrets when it seemed the world was closing in on them. Not even Jake knew about it, although it was located very close to where she was sitting.

        Of course, Jen wasn't there, so Liz felt the secret was safe and that was the way she would keep it. In the meantime, she needed to talk to Carey, so she told him to bring his beer, took his hand and led him back to Jake's office. Big Jake was already there. Waiting for them.

        Carey's eyes clouded with anger when he heard what had happened to Liz that morning. But he brightened considerably when he heard about the retribution later in the day. He had heard about the accidents, of course, but hadn't known they had any connection to anyone he knew.

        As for Lizard’s plan, he agreed as soon as she told him. Carey even added a few refinements of his own. In fact, he told them, there was a shipment going down below in the early morning. If they could get Jimmy ready, they could probably have him on his way within 12 hours. The tricky part would be getting the Snitch over to the lab so that Carey could get him fitted out to make the flight.

        Autohuman Systems kept a continuous flow of robots and Waldos moving between its earthside facilities and the labs on Little Rockpile. The company had found that, rather than paying for special freight handling and all of that, it was cheaper to simply book the robots as passengers, strap them in, and let them fly down with the regular folks. The passenger shuttle gave Autohuman a discount since the robots flew on a space available basis and didn't eat meals or put any strain on the shuttle’s resources. So the robots filled space that otherwise would have been empty –– producing no revenue at all –– and the company got a cut rate on shipping them. It was a marriage of convenience.

        Since the robots flew in the regular passenger compartment –– which was pressurized and had a normal atmosphere –– Liz had the idea that, if he could be outfitted with the outer shell of a robot, the Snitch could ride down as part of one of those shipments. The only question was whether Jimmy could stay quiet for the 40 hours or so that it would take him to make the trip.

        Carey said it could be done, but —— and this was the part that had Liz worried —— he would have to take his boss into their confidence in order to get the necessary permissions and to avoid losing his job. According to Carey, Darwin Culhane, the owner of Autohuman Systems, was a sucker for strays and orphans, so he didn’t see any problem there at all. In fact, Culhane would probably have some ideas to contribute about how they could make it all work out.

        His boss was still at the factory, Carey said, so if Liz knew when she could have Jimmy there, he would put things in motion. Jake suggested that Carey should go ahead and start taking care of the preliminaries, and Alien would bring Jimmy to the lab in about two hours, just as soon as they took care of some other business.

        By 7 o’clock, Carey was on his way back to the lab. At 7:15 Alien showed up. He and Jake shot a few games of nine-ball. Then Alien said he needed to show Jake something, pointing to what looked like a large sample case, and the two men retired to Jake’s office. Liz was just removing the grate from the ventilation duct on the floor. Two minutes later Jimmy had climbed out, looking a bit ragged after his sojourn in the hiding place, but otherwise none the worse for wear. Jen had discovered the hiding place years ago. Turned out what everyone thought of as the skin of Little Rockpile was really a false floor on which all the structures were constructed. Between that floor and the shell of the space colony was a maze of service tunnels, ventilation ducts, and the like. Oh, the engineers and techies in charge of keeping the colony running knew about them all right. But none of them ever went into the service modules, except in a case of dire emergency, and there were very few of those –– the last had been about 11 years earlier. All the routine maintenance, inspection and repair work was done by service droids who hummed through the miles and miles of corridors and fixed any little thing that needed fixing. They also kept the rodent population down. It was no great trick to avoid the droids, and Jen had learned early on how to bypass the sensors so that no one would know she was prowling around.

        She had found what looked like a large metal cave down there. Maybe someone had intended to turn it into a service bay and then later decided it wasn't needed. At any rate it made a great location for a hideout when she, and later Liz, didn't want to be found. Over the years, the young women had added a few frills, a lantern, a small library of VR discs, and a cot that was serviceable, if not especially comfortable. When the metal paneling was in place, anyone who did happen to be around would have walked right past the place and not known it was there.

        Of course, the trick was getting in and out without being seen. The grate on the floor of Jake’s office was the easiest entry point because it wasn't far away from the hideout. Liz had been confident none of Romano’s goons would tumble to it, as long as Jimmy wasn't seen coming or going. So once she had him safely stowed away down there, she had made him promise to stay put unless she came for him or sent for him. Scared as he was, the Snitch had agreed in a heartbeat.

        But now it was time to go. Jimmy blinked owlishly as he climbed out of the dimly lit service area into Jake’s brightly lighted office. He nodded to Alien and Jake and gave Liz a hug.

        While Dodd was setting up the holo-cam, Liz walked over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

        "Sometime," she said, "I want you to tell me exactly how you managed that action this afternoon."

        He looked at her with a veiled expression.

        "Lizard, I don’t know what you are talking about. I’ve been busy getting ready all afternoon. Oh, I heard about the accidents, and I guess it’s kind of a strange coincidence that they involved the three people who hassled you this morning. But I don’t know anything about it. And, believe me, you don’t want to know anything about it either."

        Then he smiled, "Now, let’s see about getting this boy out of harm’s way."

        Alien explained what he wanted, and Jimmy agreed with less reluctance than Liz had expected. What she didn’t understand was that the Snitch was aching to tell someone what he had seen. It was a bad thing, and he didn’t want to keep carrying it around inside.

        Once the camera was on, Jimmy began talking, responding to Alien’s questions directly and candidly.

        He had been on his way home after visiting a friend, he said. Taking a short cut behind some fancy apartments, he had come upon three men and a woman having some kind of argument.

        Jimmy had tried to stay out of sight, but then the men started getting rough, and he couldn’t just hide there and watch. So he started toward them about the time one of them yelled something, and the woman cried out. She slumped to the ground, and standing over her, knife in hand, was Ben Romano. Romano looked up and saw Jimmy, and the chase was on. Unfortunately, in trying to get away, Jimmy had dropped a book bag that contained some I.D., so it had required no great effort on Romano’s part to find out who he was and where he lived.

        Listening to the interview, Liz realized that Alien was very good at it. His questions were designed to draw the information out without putting any particular spin on it, and to amplify the detail when necessary. Through it all, he was very patient, as though they had all the time in the world, and careful not to put any unnecessary pressure on Jimmy. When it was all done, Alien put his own face in front of the camera and recited a few particulars, stating that this was a true record of the events described, giving the time and date of the interview, and identifying the witnesses present. He then gave some kind of security code that Liz didn't understand, and ended the session.

        Setting the holo-cam on copy, Alien instructed it to make six copies of the session. While it was producing the mini-discs, he pulled a mysterious black box out of the case he had brought with him. Telling Jimmy not to worry, he opened the box, aligned it with Jimmy’s head and put it on his head. Throwing a switch on the outside of the box, he again told Jimmy not to worry.

        "This will only take a minute," he said. "What it does is create an electronic cast of Jimmy’s features. I'm planning to create a little confusion among our enemies."

        Dodd removed the box at about the same time the holo-cam had finished the copies of the interview. He put it back in the sample case and removed a soft-sided bag.

        "It’s a good thing, we’re about the same size, kid," he said to Jimmy. "I had to put this together in kind of a rush."

        Opening the bag he produced a jump suit that looked like the type many of the miners and maintenance workers on the colony wore, along with some padding. He told the Snitch to use Jake’s bathroom to change clothes. The padding, he said, would make Jimmy about 40 pounds heavier.

        About 30 minutes later, two men slipped out of the back entrance of Curry’s and quickly joined the foot traffic on the pedway heading toward the tech-labs near the colony’s core. One of the men sported a goatee and mustache and wore a gold mylar coverall, crowning the outfit with a bright red beret. The other, apparently some sort of laborer, wore more nondescript clothing.

        He had apparently been in some sort of accident though. Not quite covered by the dark glasses that shielded his eyes, part of a horrible scar was visible to anyone who was looking. As if that weren't evidence enough, the man also had a metal prosthetic in place of his right hand.

        The back way in and out of Curry’s was a closely held secret. Until that day, only Jake, Bette and Liz had known about it. Now Alien and Jimmy also knew. Romano’s people were watching the front of the pool hall, the only way in or out that they knew about, and other than a glance at the queer chap in the gold and red outfit, they paid no attention to the two who went by on the pedway.

        Within four hours, Jimmy the Snitch was housed in a metal skin –– his ride was a barrel-shaped robot with mechanical arms that moved on rollers –– and had a full set of instructions from Alien. He had been given two of the holo-discs containing his statement on the killing. One he would keep. The other he would give to a man who would come to collect him at Autohuman’s earthside facility just outside Cape Canaveral.

        Jimmy also had another disc. This one had been prepared by Jake and was intended for the people he would be staying with. The man who would meet Jimmy, Alien explained, would get him to Jake’s friends.

        "Don’t worry about this, kid," Dodd told him. "You’ll be OK. Everyone should spend some time on earth. I don’t think you’ll need to be away for more than six months, though. Ben Romano is going down."

        By noon the next day, the colony was in an uproar over the antics of Jimmy the Snitch. That very morning he had walked into the security offices and delivered a holo-disc to Tanner Micks on which, reportedly, was a statement that implicated Ben Romano in the murder of the hooker five days earlier. Some of Micks’ subordinates, who didn’t care much for their boss and were suspicious of his connection to Romano, made sure that the word was out within one hour of Jimmy’s appearance at the office. Then the Snitch had been spotted out and about at several different locations. Folks on Little Rockpile alternately marveled at the youngster’s courage and wondered at his foolishness.

        Of course, it wasn't really Jimmy. It was Alien disguised to look like the Snitch. Dodd had decided the best way to insure the kid made his trip safely was to give Romano the impression he was still on the colony. Besides, it was another way to sabotage the crime boss. After all, if a 15-year-old wasn’t afraid of him, why should anyone else be? And it was working. A very angry Ben Romano was lashing out at his own people for their incompetence, and some of his underlings –– chiefly his second-in-command, Jules Ponce –– were beginning to wonder whether Ben hadn’t gone over the edge.

        After all, it hadn’t been necessary for him to off the hooker. Romano had become enraged when the woman refused to be the star attraction at a party for one of Ben’s cronies. But, hell, one of the other girls probably would have done it if the money was good enough, which it was. Nicci Daw, the hooker Romano killed, had always drawn the line at taking on more than two guys at a time. Well, everyone was entitled to their standards. Weren’t they?

        So Jules was thinking maybe it was time to make a move before Romano spoiled the action for everyone. They had a sweet setup on Little Rockpile and most of it —— the prostitution, gambling and drugs, which were the real money-makers —— was strictly legit. Loan-sharking and protection, along with the judicious use of muscle to protect their interests, weren’t legal, but as long as they were discreet about it, no one seemed too interested in bringing any of it to a stop. Then there were the more exotic entertainments that Romano offered, for a price, to the big spenders who came to the Rock from down below. All of it added up to a tidy profit for those on the inside, even after the skim had been sent to the syndicate bosses on earth, who had put up the money to finance the whole thing. Now, Ben was threatening to blow the whole deal. Eventually the bosses would deal with the problem, but Jules was afraid they might wait too long. He was also more than a little concerned that, when they made their move, he might be taken out along with Romano.

        Plus there was this business about the holo-disc. Tanner Micks had told Romano the kid’s story checked out, and he could only sit on it for so long before he was going to have to do something about it. If Ben was going to take care of the Snitch, Micks had told him, he had better do it fast.

        But the kid seemed to have resources and abilities all out of proportion to what you would expect from a 15-year-old. Realizing that, a smarter man than Ben might have began to suspect what was going on. However, the Big Man had long since stopped being rational about Jimmy the Snitch.

        Finally, things came to a head when, after two more days of frustration, Romano issued the order to "snatch the broad." The "broad" in question was Liz, and Ben had told his boys to "bring her in for a meeting."

        For the first time since he had been running things, Ben met with some resistance from his own people. Most of them had not been too happy about the effort to strong-arm Lizard a few days earlier, and none of them were in favor of the "meeting" because they all knew what their boss had in mind. As for Jules, he decided the time had come to make his move.

        Even though they were reluctant, however, most of Romano’s hoods would have followed his orders. The only problem was that Liz had dropped out of sight, and no one knew where to find her. She hadn’t been seen at the pool hall for a couple of days. A search of her apartment turned up no leads either.

        This, too, had been Alien’s idea.

        "Once Romano gets frustrated enough, he’s going to lash out, and you are the obvious target. So make yourself scarce for a while. Just stay in touch with Jake, and he’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out again."

        Lizard was none too happy about it, but she saw the logic nonetheless. The hardest part was not being able to tell Carey where she was. But Jake had told him that she had to disappear for a while and gave him the note she had written thanking him for his help and promising to resume their budding relationship at the earliest possible moment.

        The message Jake passed back to her was short and to the point.

        "I’ll be waiting," it said.

        Meanwhile, things were coming to a head.

        Tanner Micks got a call from the head of his company at the outfit’s earthside headquarters. His boss said he was in possession of a holo-disc on which a young man revealed he had witnessed a murder on Little Rockpile. Micks’ boss wanted to know what was being done to apprehend the man who had been identified as the murderer.

        The Little Rockpile Newsflash also had acquired a copy of the disc and was hounding Micks for comment before it broadcast a story about it on the evening news broadcast.

        When the security chief protested that the holo-disc was evidence, the oily-voiced newsie said, "Sure it is, Micks. At least, your copy is. The question is what are you doing about it? Arrested Ben Romano yet?"

        The subject of these inquiries was in a state of unrequited rage by this time. Unable to get his hands on the Lizard or the Snitch, Ben Romano was totally out of control. His mood was only exacerbated when he received a discreet inquiry from some of the bosses down below who asked, in their own inimitable way, "Just what the hell is going on up there?"

        Romano had no idea who had tipped them, just as he had no idea who had orchestrated all the problems he was having. So, desperate to find some way out, he turned to the one man on Little Rockpile he believed he could trust completely, Jules Ponce, his number two.

        Jules was encouraging.

        "Look boss, I think you need to take a couple of days and cool off. Let things settle down. I’ve been checking around, and I think I’ve got a lead on the Snitch. Give me 48 hours and I hand you his head on a platter. Meanwhile, we’ve got a new girl, fresh from earthside, who’s really hot to meet you. Her name’s Darla, and she’s got a body that just won’t quit. Spend some time with her, and I promise you, you’ll have a whole new slant on things."

        "Yeah Jules, maybe you’re right," Romano sighed. "This thing has just got totally out of hand. So you’ve really got a lead on the kid?"

        "Boss," Jules looked him straight in the eye, "I guarantee that this time two days from now, Jimmy the Snitch won’t be a problem."

        At that point in the conversation, Darla Kane walked into the room, making it look like an accident —— just as Jules had told her to, and Ben Romano began steaming up.

        Once the introductions were made, Ben and Darla retired to his luxurious apartment, and Jules went to work on his alibi. Oh, Darla was everything he had said she was. She was a beautiful woman and very accomplished in bed. Unfortunately for Ben, her skills didn’t stop there. And Jules had brought her in for those other talents, not her abilities as a courtesan.

        There were two things about Darla Kane that Ben would have found very disturbing had he known them. First, she was Jules Ponce’s sister, and, second, she was a highly skilled assassin.

        Even though he knew it was coming, Jules had no difficulty feigning surprise when Romano’s bodyguard called him later in the day, stolid voice quaking, and told him about the terrible accident that had befallen their boss. Romano had always fancied himself a real stallion, and according to the young lady with him, he had been attempting some unusually athletic moves in the marble spa in his bedroom, had slipped and broken his neck. She had a nasty bruise on her thigh, also sustained in the accident, and was in a state of shock over what had happened.

        "Geez," Darla sniffled, bumping strategically against the bodyguard, who was trying to calm her down and grope her at the same time, "it’s the first time I ever had a John die on me."

        The death of Ben Romano, especially the manner of his demise, was the chief topic of conversation on Little Rockpile for weeks after, and formed the basis of some really bad jokes for much longer than that.

        Jules had moved quickly to consolidate his power, after getting approval from the bosses down below. The crew on Little Rockpile would be no problem. In fact, most of them welcomed the change. They all regarded their new boss as a shrewd operator who wouldn’t let emotion interfere with business. That opinion was confirmed when he ordered an end to the search for the Lizard and the Snitch. The whole unfortunate affair, Jules told the boys, had been a mistake, and, besides, it had had been strictly Ben Romano’s problem.

        He delivered the same message in person that Saturday night, when he dropped in at Curry’s to shoot a little nine-ball with Big Jake. Jules had been in before, so he wasn’t a stranger to Jake or the pool hall, and though he wasn’t in Jake’s class as a shooter, he still played a respectable game.

        Lizard watched warily from the bar, where she sat with Carey and Alien. She had come out of hiding as soon as word of Romano’s death was public. They had held off on sending for Jimmy though.

        "Let things cool off," Alien suggested. "Besides, let the kid find out what it’s like to go for a long walk in a warm summer rain."

        As Jake was running the table, Jules said, "You know, Jake, I can’t for the life of me understand what all that business with Jimmy the Snitch was about. You know what I mean? Ben had some crazy ideas sometime. But, do me a favor, will ya. Tell Jimmy Marco and Liz Delgado that whatever it was, it’s over. They got no problems as far as I’m concerned. Tell ‘em that for me. Would ya?"

        Big Jake looked at him and smiled, "Sure Jules," then dropped the nine ball. "Rack ‘em," Jake said.

        Alien stifled a yawn and finished his beer.

        "I don’t know what it is," he grumbled, "but lately I can’t seem to get enough sleep."

        "Gee, I wonder why?" Liz laughed, as she gave him a hug. "Thanks again, friend. We wouldn’t have made it without you."

        The little man blushed and stumbled out of Curry’s with a smile on his face.

        Liz turned to Carey.

        "You know, I’ve never been earthside. I was one of the first children born up here, and it’s been home ever since. So maybe you and I could go down and fetch Jimmy back. I don’t mean right away, but in a few months. What do you think?"

        Carey looked at her, "Sure, I could probably work something out. Just as long as it’s not too soon."

        "Good," Liz said, looking deep into those blue eyes and blushing furiously as she lowered her voice to a whisper, "because Alien started me thinking there might be some things you and I could try in the warm summer rain ourselves."

#30#

 

BL Corcoran

 

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