Trouble Magnet by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fiction, Science Fiction, Flinx (Fictitious character), Pip (Fictitious character: Foster), Space Opera, Humanx Commonwealth (Imaginary organization), Adventure, Pip (Fictitious character : Foster)
ISBN: 9780345485045
Publisher: Del Rey/Ballantine Books
Published: 2006-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

10

They should have waited several months before trying to market the first of their spoils. Being of a youthful and impatient age, they waited several days. Not even the usually reflective Chaloni was immune to the insistent lure of instant cred. They were each and every one of them dead broke, having spent everything they had been able to accumulate or borrow to finance the raid. In the end, the temptation proved too great.

Chaloni chose the fence carefully. First he vetted the woman via contacts throughout Alewev. Then he paid a visit in person to sell a comparatively inconsequential packet of activated medicines Missi had picked up off the street. Finally satisfied with the choice, he selected a couple of small but extremely valuable items from the hidden stockpile and set off across Malandere with Subar in tow. Pretending to be his “slow” younger brother, Subar would serve as a second pair of eyes and as armed backup.

“I’ve never used a gun before,” he argued when the older boy explained his intentions. “Knives, a stunner—but never a gun.”

Chaloni pressed the compact pistol into Subar’s reluctant hand. “Since everything is going to go according to plan, you won’t have to use it this time, either. But there are times, y’know, when it’s enough to let someone else know that you have a gun.”

Subar indicated his understanding, conflicted between secret pleasure at having been chosen by Chaloni to accompany him in place of the older Dirran or Sallow Behdul, and concern at having to tote a high-powered weapon.

He relaxed a little when they entered the shop.

It looked a lot like a miniature version of the storage facility they had raided, only with all the goods crammed together, out on display, and none concealed by packaging. The assortment struck him as highly eclectic: a lot of junk interspersed with a few objects of real value. The presence of so much of the former might be intended to draw attention to the latter, he decided.

The middle-aged woman seated behind the long counter flashed maternal as they entered. “Wellup, wellin, boys.” She had a permanent squint, a relic of imperfect ocular surgery, and wagged a finger at Chaloni. “You sold me those pop-pills, as I recalling.” Her gaze flicked to Subar. “Who’s this sprightly youngster?” Subar bristled at the “youngster.” She might tag him differently if she could see the pistol presently residing in his right front pant pocket.

“My younger brother, Vione. Thought he’d like to see your place.” Chaloni winked. “Thought it would be educational for him to sit on a transaction.”

The proprietor nodded, smiling pleasantly. “Would you like some thirps to munch on while your big brother and I are attending to business? I have cinnamon and luret.”

“Sure,” Subar responded with falsified eagerness. In reality, he hated thirps. For all their imbued flavor, they had the consistency of desiccated packing material. Going along with the suggestion, though, earned him an approving glance from Chaloni.

Munch on the snack food he might, but that did not keep him from playing close attention to the business at hand.

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