“How soon will that be?”

Halfpenny Terwilliger laughed. “That all depends. Does he owe Gentry money?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then it’ll probably be sooner rather than later.” He pulled out a deck of cards. “Care for a little game of chance while you’re waiting?”

“I’d rather have a little information about Stern.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Terwilliger. “Tell you what. You bet with money, I’ll bet with pieces of Stern’s life. I’ll match every credit with a story.”

“Why don’t I just pay you twenty credits for what I want to know and be done with it?” suggested Cain.

“Because I’m a gambler, not a salesman,” came the answer.

“At a credit a bet, you’re not likely to become a very rich one,” observed Cain.

Terwilliger smiled. “I got into my first card game with one New Scotland halfpenny. I was worth two million pounds before it was over. That’s how I got my name.” He paused. “Of course, I lost it all the next week, but still, it was fun while it lasted, and no one else ever had a run of luck like that one. Been trying to do it again ever since.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Oh, maybe a dozen years,” said Terwilliger with another smile. “I still remember how it felt, though—like the first time I was ever with a woman, except that it lasted longer: six days and five nights. That’s why I always start small—out of respect for times past. If you want to raise the stakes later, we can.”

“If I raise the stakes, what can you bet to match it?”

Terwilliger scratched his head. “Well, I suppose I can start betting rumors instead of facts. They’re a lot more interesting, anyway—especially if they’re about the fali.”

“What’s a fali?” asked Cain.

“It’s what the natives call themselves. I don’t suppose it’s the best-kept secret in the galaxy that our friend Stern’s got a couple of tastes that are just a bit out of the ordinary.”

“Let’s stick to facts for the time being,” said Cain. He nodded toward the cards. “It’s your deal.”

They played and talked for more than an hour, at the end of which Cain knew a little bit more about Stern, and Terwilliger was some forty credits richer.

“You know, you still haven’t told me why you want to see him,” remarked the gambler.

“I need some information.”

“Who do you plan to kill?” asked Terwilliger pleasantly.

“What makes you think I want to kill anyone?”

“You’ve got that look about you. I’m a gambler, remember? My job is reading faces. Your face says you’re a bounty hunter.”

“What if I told you I was a journalist?” asked Cain.