“I didn’t have an eight-foot-tall disaster coming after me with blood in his eye when we were in the bar!” snapped Terwilliger.

“Are you all through yelling now?” asked Cain calmly.

“I arranged for you to meet with Stern,” said Terwilliger desperately. “That ought to be worth something.”

Cain reached into a pocket, withdrew a small silver coin, and flipped it across the room to Terwilliger. “Thanks,” he said.

“Damn it, Songbird! What kind of man are you?”

“An unsympathetic one. Do you plan on leaving any time soon, or am I going to have to throw you out?”

Terwilliger emitted a sigh of defeat, gathered up the cards from the bed, and trudged to the door.

“Thanks a lot,” he said sarcastically.

“Any time,” replied Cain, stepping aside to let him pass out into the corridor.

The door slid shut again.

Cain stood absolutely still for a moment, then opened it.

“Hey, Terwilliger!” he yelled at the gambler’s retreating figure.

“Yes?”

“What do you know about a man named Duncan Black?”

“The guy with the eyepatch?” said Terwilliger, turning and taking a tentative step in Cain’s direction.

“That’s the one.”

“I used to play cards with him. What do you want to know?”

“Where am I likely to find him?” asked Cain.

Suddenly Terwilliger grinned broadly. “I do believe I just booked passage out of here,” he said.

“You know where he is?”

“That I do.”

“Where?”

“I’ll tell you after we’ve taken off.”

Cain nodded his agreement. “I’m leaving as soon as I have dinner. Get your gear together and meet me at the spaceport in two hours.”

Terwilliger pulled out his deck of cards.

“I’ve got all the luggage I need right here,” he said happily. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go down and find a little game of chance to while away the lonely minutes before we leave.”

With that, he turned on his heel and went off in search of the three or four newcomers to Port étrange who would still accept his marker.

3.

Halfpenny Terwilliger, the boldest gambler yet;

Halfpenny Terwilliger will cover any bet;

Halfpenny Terwilliger, a rowdy martinet;

Halfpenny Terwilliger is now one soul in debt.

“Gin.”

“Damn!” said Terwilliger, slapping his hand down on the table. “You caught me with nineteen.” He pushed the cards over to Cain. “Your deal.”

“I’ve had enough for a while.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve played more cards during the past five days than in the twenty years preceding them,” said Cain. “Let’s knock off for a few hours.”

“Just trying to keep you amused,” said Terwilliger, shuffling the deck and putting it back in the pocket of his brightly colored tunic. “Where do we stand?”

“You owe me a little over twenty-two hundred credits.”

“I don’t suppose you’d take a marker?” asked Terwilliger.

Cain smiled. “Not very likely.”