“Sounds exciting,” I lied. “When do we leave?”
“In about two hours.”
“I can hardly wait.”
That much was true.
* * *
The Deecee terminal was everything I’d hoped it would be: loud, crowded and hectic. Our tour group was swallowed by the seething mass of people. Everyone seemed to be in such a hurry. In a hurry for what, I couldn’t imagine. Or care. It was perfect cover for me. B’oosa was on my right, Francisco on my left.
“Have to go to the bathroom,” I said, turning the wheelchair abruptly, heading for the large doorway marked Hombres. They were right behind me, but stayed at the entrance.
I never slowed down. Slipped the wheelchair into one of the empty stalls and headed out the back door on foot. My heel still bothered me a little, but not too much. I had to get to a phone.
The bathroom’s back door opened into a large crowded concourse just like the one I’d left. Looked around, saw a bank of phones, headed for them. Quickly. I stood out like a planet among moons. Even hunched over and hobbling, I loomed over the midget Earthies.
I crammed myself into one of the booths in back, more-or-less out of sight. Didn’t know how much time I’d have before B’oosa and Francisco started looking for me, but it couldn’t be very much. I hoped to be gone by then. Punched the number the Heller had given me. Must have been a long way off; took a whole handful of coins.
A face materialized out of the grayness. A hard face, scarred, with unruly black hair slicked back, a mustache. His frown broke a little when he caught my image. He almost smiled.
“Ah, Mr. Bok. So good of you to call. Allow me to introduce myself: Paul Wolfe of Wolfe and Associates. A certain mutual acquaintance said he might be able to get me in touch with you.”
“You mean Markos Salvadore? The Heller?”
He nodded. “Mr. Salvadore does odd jobs for me from time to time. I find him a little coarse, but effective in his own way. He mentioned your problem to me.”
“Problem?”
“He indicated you needed money and had a short time in which t obtain it. You may have noticed that this is somewhat difficult to accomplish on Earth.”
“I’ve been finding that out the hard way.”
“So I see. I don’t know if you are aware of it, Mr. Bok, but you are creating something of a minor sensation here on Earth. Springers are not common on this planet and, I must admit, you put on quite a show. This is where I come in.”
“Yes?”
“You see, one aspect of my business is, well, organizing shows such as the one you performed in with the sharks. But mine are special events; oneshots, we call them. They are very popular with those who watch such matches, which is to say most of the population of Earth. I can pay you well.”
“How well?”
“I think the figure mentioned by our friend was in the neighborhood of P15,000. Does that sound about right?”
I nodded. It was exactly right. “What would I have to do for that?”
“Fight a polar bear to the death. Either his or yours.”
No way. I remembered the bull and how he had died. Never again.
“The money sounds fine, Mr. Wolfe, but I won’t kill for it. Would it be all right if I rendered the animal unconscious instead?”
He thought for a moment, tugged at his mustache. “That would be more difficult than killing it, but I suppose that one as large as you could just possibly manage it. My public wants to see blood and they’ll get it either way. The bear, of course, will be under no such restraint.”
“When and where?” I asked, anxious to get moving. For P15,000 I’d wrestle a firelizard with both arms tied behind my back.
“The match will take place in Anchorage-sibirsk. Preferably tomorrow afternoon if you can manage it. I have a network slot at sixteen hundred hours. It would fit in nicely.”
“I’m on my way,” I said. “Uh, how do I get there?”
“Where are you now?”
“Deecee.”
“Good. Take the tube from there to Seattle, then catch the shuttle up to Anchorage-sibirsk. My men will meet you there. They should have no trouble recognizing you.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Don’t worry about expenses. Charge them to me. I am well known here.”
No doubt. Just one more thing. “These bears,” I asked, “are they anything like bulls or sharks?”
He laughed. “No. Not at all. I think you’ll find this particular animal a challenge.”
Not exactly what I wanted to here.
“I will see you this evening,” he said. “I look forward to meeting you in person, Mr. Bok.”
“Likewise,” I said and he broke the connection with a wave of his hand. For P15,000 he could be as abrupt with me as he wanted.
I unfolded myself from the booth. Tight fit. I was cramped.
“Bears, huh?” A voice behind me. A familiar one. Oh no, not now. Francisco.
“What do you want bears for?” he asked, laughing.
“What I want is the P15,000.”
“We’d better go now,” he said.
“No, Pancho. Look, I’ve got to do this.”
He grabbed my arm, started to pull me down the corridor.
“This way,” he said. “Hurry.”
“Hurry?”
“B’oosa won’t be long. I sent him to the pharmacy to get you some medicine.”
“B’oosa? Medicine?”
“I’m covering for you, you clown. Your head is as dense as your biceps. If we’re going to grab the tube before B’oosa finds out we’re gone, we’d better hurry.”
“We?”
“Let’s just say that I’m fond of animal life.” He dragged me through the crowd.
IX
The tube was boring, but fast and cheap. They strapped us into a two-person pod and slipped us on our way. Once again, I was a tight fit. It was uncomfortable, but the trip didn’t last long.
There wasn’t much of anything to see, either. Most of the tube was underground. When we did come up to the surface it was always in some barren, deserted place. At 1200 kilometers per hour everything slid by pretty fast.
The Seattle terminal looked just like the one in Deecee, only a little smaller. Still full of people, though. All in a hurry. We caught the shuttle to Anchorage-sibirsk without any trouble.
The shuttle was a lot slower than the tube and we got to see a good bit of the country. From what Pancho had told me, I expected everything to be meters deep in ice and snow. Sure there was some snow around, and ice in the mountains, but mostly there were trees. No plants on Springworld grew half as tall as the trees we saw. I was really impressed. Although there were a few houses scattered around and several small cities, the whole area seemed mostly uninhabited. This was pretty unusual for a plant as overpopulated as Earth. Someone told us this was one of the last places on the planet where and wilderness at all existed, mostly because people didn’t care to live there. It was changing, though, and fairly fast. Days were long in the summer and certain areas were covered by automated farms that grew larger each year. A lot of people to feed on this planet.
We also learned a little about bears. Most of the people we met on the shuttle had stories about them. Most of the stories were about the terrible things they did. The stories were all second hand, though. It took us a long time to meet someone who had actually been face to face with one. He was a grizzled old man with one arm. We found him sitting in the observation car on the shuttle. He didn’t want to talk much, but after Pancho bought him a drink, he loosened up a bit.
“Not like the old days,” he said. “Not a bit. My pappy and my pappy’s pappy knew how to live. Seven generations in the back country, never once took a pesa from the government. A man was a man, then. Had to be, to stay alive. Things change. Everybody wants something for nothing. Government takes care of everybody. Spoon feeds ‘em, does everything for ‘em ‘cept change their diapers. Now in the old days …” His voice trailed
off. He stared at the mountains in the distance. “A man was a man, that’s all.”
“We were wondering about bears,” I said. “Polar bears. Do you know anything about them?”
The old man laughed. “Bears. Hah! I was practically weaned by bears, been around ‘em all my life. Mostly they’re shy, stay away from people, but not always. Watch out for females with cubs, they’ll tear anything apart to protect them cubs.”
“I don’t think we’ll run into anything like that,” I said hopefully.
“Also mean if they’re cornered, mean as hell. If they’re threatened and caught with their back against a wall, they can be ten kinds of trouble. I know. Let me tell you, I know. I remember that time I was running my trap lines with my son — John, it was, my second son — and out of nowhere it came … nowhere …” He drifted off again, lost in thought.
“How big are these bears?” asked Pancho.
“You.” He pointed at me. “You an offworlder, right?” I nodded.
“How tall are you?”
“Two and a half meters.”
“Biggest bear I ever saw was almost three meters tall, weighed more than six hundred kilos. Know that for a fact, killed him and dressed him myself. Cost me four dogs and an arm. When he reared up and came at me it was like a mountain walking tall. Took a full clip before he fell and by then, well, he’d done his damage.”
“What’s the best way to knock one out?” I asked.
“With a big club and ten friends,” he said.
“No, I mean with my hands.”
“Your hands? Don’t kid me.” He looked me over carefully. “Guess a fella as big as you might be able to handle one at that; a small one, maybe, if you were fast enough. You got to grab him right here.” He indicated a place on the side of his neck. “Push down real hard for a few seconds. If you’re in the right place and strong enough, he might go down. If you don’t have it right, you’re dead. You won’t get no second chance.”
“I hope I don’t need one.”
“You plannin’ on rasslin’ a bear? Boy, you got rocks for brains.”
“I don’t know. I think I can do it. Besides, Mr. Wolfe said —“
The old man looked like he’d been hit in the stomach. “Mr. Wolfe, you say? Mr. Paul Wolfe?”
“Yes. I talked to him and he —“
“Got no use for Wolfe and his crew,” he said, getting up from his seat. “Got no use for them what does business with him.” He purposely tipped his drink into Pancho’s lap, eyes daring Pancho to do something about it. Everything froze for a split second.
“You see, we have —“
“Bastards,” he growled, turning away from us.
I started to go after him; he didn’t understand. Pancho stopped me by laying a hand gently on my arm.
“Don’t do it, Carl,” he said. “The man’s got a grudge and I think it’s pretty deep. We don’t want any trouble.”
We sure didn’t want trouble, but as Anchorage-sibirsk slid into view, I wondered just what it was we were headed for.
The men who met us at the terminal were tough-looking, but polite and all business. They took us straight to the hotel, one of those old-fashioned glass and steel things that stick way up in the air. Wouldn’t last five minutes in any halfway decent storm on Springworld. They paid us for our tube and shuttle tickets, gave us a little extra for what they called walking-around money. Told us not to leave the hotel room as Mr. Wolfe would be in touch with us shortly.
One wall of the room was glass and it looked out over the sprawling city to the mountains beyond. A light snow was falling. As cities go on Earth, this one was pretty small; only about 14 million inhabitants. Even so, it was the largest city in this part of the planet and had a pretty wild reputation as a rugged, knock-down kind of place. Pancho seemed unnaturally eager to find out. Me, I just had my sights set on that P15,000.
Before long the phone chimed and Mr. Wolfe’s face appeared on the screen.
“Mr. Bok,” he said, “I’m glad to see that you managed to arrive safely. You brought a friend, I am told.” He looked in Pancho’s direction.
“His name is Francisco Bolivar. Pancho.”
“You understand that Mr. Bolivar cannot help you with the bear.”
“He’s here to give me moral support,” I said.
“Very well,” said Mr. Wolfe. “I have no objection. I am free to see you now. My men will bring you up.”
“Up?”
“Yes, my office is located on the top floor of this building. I own this hotel. Didn’t they tell you?”
“No.”
He shrugged. “It is only one of my properties. And not the most profitable, by any means.” Again he broke the connection abruptly. One thing was for sure; I didn’t have to worry about Mr. Wolfe being good for the P15,000. Looked like he could buy planets.
We were taken by elevator to the top floor, where we exited into a large anteroom. It was plush; thick carpets on the floor, paintings on the walls. There were several desks in the room, most of them occupied by bodyguard types who just sat there, watching us, looking tough. Large desks, looked like real wood. A woman sat at one and she smiled at us.
:Good afternoon, Mr. Bok. Mr. Bolivar.” She nodded pleasantly toward us. “Mr. Wolfe is expecting you. Won’t you go in?” She motioned to a door behind her desk, only one of many doors leading from the room. With all these doors and people around, it’s a wonder anyone ever got to see Mr. Wolfe.
I had expected to find an opulent office and I was mistaken. It was functional to the point of being stark; one desk, one phone, no books, no windows. Behind the desk sat Mr. Wolfe. He was big for an Earthie, but still quite a bit smaller than me. He didn’t rise when we entered, but he did manage a kind of half smile. I figured for him that was doing pretty well.
“Mr. Bok, you’re taller than I expected,” he said. “Do they all come that big from Springworld?”
“Most of them, I said. “Some are taller.”
“You’ll do fine, Mr. Bok.” He handed me a small folder, filled with papers.
I opened it, flipped through it. Lots of fine print with parties of the first part and whomsoevers scattered all through it. A typical contract, written by lawyers so that only lawyers could understand it. I found the important parts: P15,000 for one Carl Bok of Springworld to fight to the death (or unconsciousness) one polar bear or to stay in the arena with said animal for a minimum period of one half hour.
“What if the bear doesn’t feel like fighting?” I asked Mr. Wolfe. “It’s going to be a pretty dull half hour. An expensive one for you, too.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, Mr. Bok. It has yet to happen.”
Pancho came over and looked at the contract over my shoulder. I don’t think the legalese could have made any more sense to him than it did to me. English was a foreign language to him.
“Is Mr. Bolivar your lawyer?” asked Mr. Wolfe. I got the feeling that he was only half joking.
“Oh no,” said Pancho. “I’m just a student, like Carl. We are amigos, comrades.”
Mr. Wolfe handed me a pen. “It’s a standard business form. You will sign all three copies.” He paused. “If you please,” he added as an afterthought.
I signed. For P15,000 I would have signed almost anything.
Mr. Wolfe took back the pen and folder. “Very good, Mr. Bok,” he said. “The money will be waiting for you at the end of your match. I hope you will take this evening to see a little of our town. We are quite proud of it. Justifiably so, I might add. I would, however, advise that you try to stay out of trouble. That is, any trouble that might lead to physical harm. You are my property until 1630 tomorrow and I like people to take care of my property. It is a small vice of mine.”
Property? Should have read the fine print, I guess.
“I’ll take care of him,” said Pancho.
“You do that,” he said. He looked at me. “It is good to do business with you, Mr. Bok. I am sure it will work out to our mutual
benefit. Good day.”
It was a second before I realized we’d been dismissed. I reached over the desk and shook Mr. Wolfe’s hand. Pancho and I were escorted back to our room.
Anchorage-sibirsk is supposed to be some kind of a frontier town. How anything with a population of fourteen million could be considered frontier was beyond me. Fourteen families make a crowded city on Springworld. But Pancho was eager to find out what it was like and I owed him at least that much for getting me away from B’oosa.
We started the evening out with dinner at the hotel. It was delicious; real meat and everything. When I tried to pay, they waved me aside. All taken care of by Mr. Wolfe. Whatever else is to be said about the man, he likes his property well fed.
Pancho asked at the desk what a person did for excitement in this town. The clerk said that just stepping outside was excitement enough for most people, but if we wanted to see what the city was really like we should drop by the Casino de Mabel.
We got directions and started to walk. It was chilly, but we had light jackets. Most of the city, at least the part we were headed for, was domed. Temperature there was a constant 23° C. Before we had gone more than a few steps, a surface vehicle pulled up beside us. Although it was long and sleek, it couldn’t hold more than five or six people. An extravagant waste of space.
The man sitting next to the driver slid a window back. “Mr. Bok?” he asked.
“That’s me,” I said.
“We’re to provide transportation for you.” A door slid open on our side. I looked at Pancho. He went in without question. I followed him.
Soft seats, cushions. It didn’t take an expert to know we were surrounded by real leather and wood trim. There was a bar and a phone in the back seat. A glass partition separated us from the front.
“Where were you headed, Mr. Bok?” The voice was a little tinny through the speaker. The volume was gentle. Someone had given a lot of thought to this vehicle.