Bloodhype (P&F 10) by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-08-11T21:34:59+00:00

The others were playing with dessert. Mal was cleaning off his fourth leg of Garvual, a large, carnivorous wading bird, when their host cocked an inquiring eye at him. Mal had long since decided that subtlety would be as useful with Kingsley as it had been with Rose. For different reasons. He wiped his hands and mouth with a hot towel, stifled most of a gargantuan belch, and began.

"Chatham, I found a consignment of drugs mixed in with the Umbra's last cargo. That shipment was 92% yours. We completely deshipped at Largess, so I know it came aboard there. It included a significant milling of refined bloodhype. Yes, bloodhype. Nearly pure, I'm told. Also a number of other nasty types, but nothing in jaster's class. Don't try and play coy with me. I know you'd be aware of the stuff's reintroduction onto the market."

Kingsley tapped delicately about the corners of his mouth with a towel. "It is true I am not entirely uninformed where information concerning trade in this section of the Arm is concerned." He sat back and folded his hands contentedly over an emerging pot-belly. "Cordials will be forthcoming. Your implication, then, is that I arty somehow involved in this traffic?"

"Are you?"

"No."

"Why wouldn't you be? You live conveniently close to Dominic Rose, who we know is responsible for disributing the stuff."

"We live on the same planet, that's true."

"This is too serious for sarcasm, Chatham."

"Pomposity invites sarcasm."

"Okay. Look, modern transport reduces a planet to nothing, distancewise. Your contacts are broader than his, better established, legitimate across the lanes, and have strong financial- support. With his illegal connections, the two of you are logical partners in an enterprise capable of pulling astronomical profits."

"I'd heard rumors that it was that old reprobate who'd been transshipping the stuff, but there was no way to confirm any of them. He covers himself too well. Or did, apparently. You're wrong on several counts.

"For openers, much as I respect Rose's business sense and his ability to handle complex transactions across parsecs with a maximum of secrecy, I personally bate his guts. That would put a crimp in any relationship of needs founded on complete trust. Second, I'm doing quite well, thank you, trading in legitimate goods. Too well to risk jeopardizing everything for a single line. However profitable. And don't think I don't envy him the margin of that trade. I do. Not That I'm averse to handling something a little off-grain, understand. I'm no saint. A respectable stimulant like Kepong, now. The authorities frown on it, but it is not, strictly speaking, under edict."

"According to whose lawyers," said Kitten.

"Yes, a point of contention. But while the powers that be debate, I see no harm in making hay while the sun shines, as the saying goes. Wonder what `hay' is? But bloodhype? That's a little too filthy. A decent gun will kill a man honestly. That stuff eats as it kills. The thing that finally dies isn't a man anymore. Or whatever race. No, no. Absolutely not.

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