The Peace War Read Free

the
mock solar system. It edged across the two-meter screen, slowing at the greater remove,
heading not for the destination planet but for the intermediary. Rosas gave an low,
involuntary whistle. He had played Celest, both alone and with a processor. The game
was nearly a century old and almost as popular as chess; it made you remember what the
human race had almost attained. Yet he had never seen such a two-cushion shot by an
unaided player.
    Tellman's smile remained but his face was turning a bit gray. The vehicle drew close to
the middle planet, catching up to it as it swung slowly about the primary. The kid made
barely perceptible adjustments in the trajectory during the closing period. Fuel status on
the display showed 0.001 full. The representation of the planet and the spacecraft merged
for an instant, but did not record as a collision, for the tiny dot moved quickly away,
going for the far reaches of the screen.
    Around them, the other children jostled and hooted. They smelled a winner, and old
Tellman was going to lose a little of the money he had been winning off them earlier in
the day. Rosas and Naismith and Tellman just watched and held their breaths. With
virtually no fuel left, it would be a matter of luck whether contact finally occurred.
    The reddish disk of the destination planet swam placidly along while the mock
spacecraft arced higher and higher, slower and slower, their paths becoming almost
tangent. The craft was accelerating now, falling into the gravity well of the destination,
giving the tantalizing impression of success that always comes with a close shot. Closer
and closer. And the two lights became one on the board.
    "Intercept," the display announced, and the stats streamed across the lower part of the
screen. Rosas and Naismith looked at each other. The kid had done it.
    Tellman was very pale now. He looked at the bills the boy had wagered. "Sorry, kid,
but I don't have that much here right now." He started to repeat the excuse in Spanish, but
the kid erupted with an unintelligible flood of spañolnegro abuse. Rosas looked
meaningfully at Tellman. He was hired to protect customers as well as proprietors. If
Tellman didn't pay off, he could kiss his lease good-bye. The Shopping Center already
got enough flak from parents whose children had lost money here. And if the kid were
clever enough to press charges...
    The proprietor finally spoke over youthful screaming. "Okay, so I'll pay. Pago, pago...
you little son of a bitch." He pulled a handful of gAu notes out of his cash box and
shoved them at the boy. "Now get out."
    The black kid was out the door before anyone else. Rosas eyed his departure
thoughtfully. Tellman went on, plaintively, talking as much to himself as anyone else. "I
don't know. I just don't know. The little bastard has been in here all morning. I swear he
had never seen a game board before. But he watched and watched. Diego Martinez had to
explain it to him. He started playing. Had barely enough money. And he just got better
and better. I never seen anything like it... In fact" — he brightened and looked at Mike —
"in fact, I think I been set up. I betcha the kid is carrying a processor and just pretending
to be young and dumb. Hey, Rosas, how about that? I should be protected. There's some
sorta con here, especially on that last game. He —
    " — really did have a snowball's chance, eh, Telly?" Rosas finished where the proprietor
had broken off. "Yeah, I know. You had a sure win. The odds should have been a
thousand to one-not the even money you gave him. But I know symbiotic processing, and
there's no way he could do it without some really expensive equipment." Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw Naismith nod agreement. "Still" — he rubbed his jaw and looked
out into the brightness beyond the entrance — "I'd like to know more about him."
    Naismith followed him out of the tent, while behind them Tellman sputtered. Most of
the children were still visible, standing in