The Return of Santiago: A Myth of the Far Future Read Free

start out that way, but it's improving," replied Balsam. A grin that boded no good spread across his face. "You fucked up big time tonight, Danny."
           "I don't know what you're talking about. I've been in the bar all night."
           "No, you've been swiping data from a kennel. We've got you cold."
           "You have holographs of me breaking into a kennel? I doubt that."
           "Of course we don't have any holos, Danny. You disabled the cameras, remember?"
           "Fingerprints, then? Or maybe voiceprints, or a retinagram?" suggested Danny.
           "We know you've wiped your prints, and you've got contacts that give a false retina reading," said Gibbs.
           "Well, you're certainly welcome to search me for this mysterious data you're referring to."
           "You're a bright lad, Danny," said Balsam. "You've either got it hidden away or committed to memory."
           "I wish I could help you," said Danny with a smile, "but aren't you supposed to have evidence before you start making accusations?"
           "Oh, we've got it, Danny. Holographs, retinagrams, voiceprints, everything."
           Danny frowned. "But you just said—"
           "We didn't get it at the kennel," said Balsam. "We got it at the market."
           "What market?"
           Balsam grinned again. "For a smart guy, you did a really dumb thing, Danny. You went to the biggest, best-protected market in town, and you bought a dead minipor to feed the animals if they got noisy."
           "I assume you're going to get to the point sometime this evening," said Danny, already scanning the room for some means of escape.
           "The minipor's a rare item, Danny. And the reason it's a rarity is because it comes from Churchill II. The store has security cameras showing you buying the only minipor imported to Bailiwick in the past half year—and there was enough of its skeleton left in the Moondevil's enclosure so that we could identify it." He paused. "It was a nice scam, Danny. Of all the scum I deal with, only you would have figured out there was a hundred times more profit in a list of empty houses than in the kennel's cash box."
           Danny glanced at the small window on the back wall of the washroom.
           "Don't even think of it," said Gibbs. "You'd never fit through, and we'd tack on another two years for trying to escape."
           "Who's escaping?" said Danny pleasantly. "I hope you have a comfortable cell. My lawyer doesn't like getting up before noon, so I'll be spending the night with you."
           "This night and the next thousand," said Balsam. He withdrew a pair of glowing manacles. "Hands behind your back, Danny."
           "Can I get a drink of water first?"
           "Okay, but no funny stuff."
           "You tell me what's funny about a glass of water," said Danny, pulling a cup out of the wall and holding it beneath the faucet. "Cold," he ordered.
           Cold water filled the cup, and Danny drank it down.
           "One more?"
           "Come on, Danny. You had your drink."
           "You know what the water's like in jail," said Danny. "Let me have one more drink. How can it hurt."
           Balsam shrugged. "Yeah, okay, go ahead."
           "Thanks," said Danny. He turned to the sink and held the glass under the tap as the two officers relaxed and waited for him.
           "Hot!" he croaked.
           Boiling hot water filled the glass, and in a single motion he hurled it in Balsam's face, grabbed the manacles, connected Gibbs' wrist to the sink, and raced out the door.
           Danny had a three-step lead on Balsam as he raced to the door of the Golden Fleece. The Commander pulled out a screecher, a sonic pistol that would put him out for the rest of the night and give him a headache for a week, but as he was running after Danny and taking aim, the Duchess stuck out a foot and