There Is No Darkness

  “The hotel clerk recommended the Casino de Mabel.”

  “An excellent choice, Mr. Bok. We’ll be there in five minutes. Please make yourself comfortable.”

  A fleeting thought came to me. “Does Mr. Wolfe own that too?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  It figured.

  The Casino de Mabel was gaudy from the outside, but no more so than the other establishments that lined the streets. Inside was a floor show and gambling, plus the usual food and drink. The floor show was ending as we came in. They were doing something called the Can-Can. It was suppose to represent a period of time called the Gold Rush. I didn’t understand any of it. Just a lot of people jumping around.

  Pancho wanted to try the gaming tables. He had a little money, plus what Wolfe’s men had given us. He also had a crazy idea about getting rich. I hadn’t slept through the probability courses in math, so I wasn’t tempted. All I wanted was my P15,000.

  Pancho sat for a while at a table playing something called blackjack, an activity that used small plastic rectangles called cards. At least he was consistent. He consistently lost. Then he moved to a game called roulette which involved a lot of numbers and a wheel with a steel ball. It looked silly. He lost there, too, but not too much. When he moved on to something called craps, played with small cubes covered with dots, I decided to leave him to his own devices for a few minutes. I needed a breath of fresh air. The air in the casino was thick with tobacco smoke. Tobacco is illegal on Earth, but evidently that particular law was not rigidly enforced in this town. The two men watching us split up, one following me, the other staying at his seat a discreet distance behind Pancho.

  Outside, under the awning of the casino, the fresh air felt good, although I wished the dome wasn’t overhead so that I could breathe some real air for a change. It looked black and crisp beyond the dome. My bodyguard stood about ten meters away, never crowding me and never letting me out of his sight. People walked in a continuous stream up and down the walkway.

  I studied their faces as they walked by. Not as much hurrying here, but maybe it was the time

  of day. A good many people wore hard-set faces of quiet desperation. It bothered me a little and — wait! Wasn’t that …

  He bumped into me, mumbled “Tracy’s Bar” and kept going. The Heller! I turned to follow him and was bumped by another person. I started to push him away.

  “Don’t follow us,” the second man whispered. It was Angelo, the Heller’s sidekick. “Half hour from now.” They both disappeared into the crowd.

  As brief as it was, the encounter had attracted unwanted attention. My bodyguard was walking toward me. I bent down, pretended to pick up something off the walkway. He came up to me. I stood up, turned to walk back into the casino. “Too crowded out here,” I said. He nodded and we went back inside. He stayed four or five steps behind. He’d been well trained.

  I found Pancho playing a large device called a slot machine. It only took pesas and only one at a time. I figured he’d pretty well blown most of his money. I leaned toward him, as if to inspect the coins he had in the cup in his hand.

  “Trouble,” I whispered. “At least I think so.” As quickly as possible I told him about meeting the Heller and Angelo.

  He finished losing the coins in his cup and made a big show about wanting to go somewhere else for a beer. We headed for the door and I nodded to the two men to follow us. They would have, anyway.

  We got into the vehicle and the driver pulled away from the curb.

  “Tracy’s Bar,” I told him.

  “Isn’t it time to head back?” he asked.

  “Tracy’s Bar,” I said firmly. “Or we get out and walk.”

  The driver changed direction and the other man talked hurriedly into a microphone. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. They reached some sort of a decision and the driver cut down a side road.

  “One drink,” came the voice over the speaker. I didn’t have to ask if Mr. Wolfe owned this place. I had a feeling he didn’t.

  Tracy’s was dark and dirty, full of tobacco smoke. It was difficult to see more than a meter in front of you. Pancho and I stumbled to the bar, ordered two beers. The bartender brought them, took our money, rang it up.

  “What do you figure’s happening?” asked Pancho.

  I shrugged in the darkness. He knew as much as I did. I picked up my beer and the bartender leaned forward and ran a rag across the bar in front of me.

  “You’re the Springer,” said the bartender. It wasn’t a question.

  “That’s right,” I said. “What’s —“

  “Go to the bathroom,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Start walking toward the bathroom, lunkhead.” He moved his head slightly to the right and I could see a dim light above a bathroom door.

  I looked into my beer and whispered to Pancho. “Head for the street. See if you can drag them away. I’ve got to see what the Heller wants.”

  Suddenly Pancho moaned and I nearly broke out laughing. I didn’t know the little fellow had it in him. What an actor. He clutched his stomach and twisted toward the door, knocking people aside as he went. Both of our “friends” followed him. In the confusion I slipped back into the bathroom.

  I was almost there when someone grabbed me by the arm and jerked me into a dark booth. I started to pull away and a familiar voice said, “Shize, Springer, it’s me.”

  I relaxed. Until then I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been. “What’s up?” I asked him.

  “You are, Springer. You are.”

  “I don’t —“

  “You don’t have a chance. That’s not going to be an ordinary bear tomorrow, it’s one of them bio-engineered things. It’ll kill you. I didn’t know, I swear. Wolfe’s got me over a barrel for some things I did for him a long time ago when I was young and hungry. He figured I could get you here and I did. But I didn’t know he was setting you up.”

  “He thought he was helping you, amigo,” said Angelo.

  “I should have known better than to trust Wolfe,” said the Heller. “All he wants is a lot of blood and you’re going to provide it. If the bear kills you, so much the better, as far as he’s concerned. There are laws against this kind of stuff, but in case you haven’t noticed it, Wolfe is the law around here.”

  “I figured that out.”

  “Good for you. There’s hope for you yet, Springer.”

  “How am I supposed to get out of this?” I asked.

  “Not easy, but there’s —“ The Heller was cut short by the thunk of a knife on the table. He started to make a move, looked up and stopped. Our two bodyguards were back. Five or six men stood behind them. None of them looked happy.

  “Mr. Bolivar has taken ill,” said one of them. “Mr. Wolfe suggests that perhaps you would like to return to your room. You will need rest for tomorrow.”

  I didn’t imagine that I had any choice in the matter. They led me out to the vehicle. Pancho was stretched out on the back seat. He didn’t look like he felt too good. I was more worried about him and what might be happening to the Heller and Angelo than I was about the bear or what they might do to me. The vehicle started moving.

  “Ten minutes, Mr. Bok.” The voice was as even as ever.

  Pancho moaned and held his head. He started to say something, but couldn’t get any words out, fell back against the seat.

  We got to the hotel room and I propped Pancho up in the shower, turned it on full cold. After a few minutes he came around.

  “Don’t know what happened, Carl. Don’t think they hit me. As soon as I got to the street everything went blank. Someone put me out quick.”

  “I think we’re in over our heads, Pancho,” I said, as he dragged himself out of the shower. “These boys play rough.”

  As Pancho dried himself off, I walked to the door and tried to open it. I couldn’t. It was locked from the outside.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Pancho.

  “Get some sleep,”
I said. “I’ve got a bear to fight tomorrow and you might have to pick up the pieces.”

  The bed was soft and too short for me. I slept on the floor.

  X

  A late breakfast was delivered to our room. I requested some literature on bears and read about them for a while. The old man had been right on the nose.

  Bears were dangerous.

  I had no idea what a bio-engineered bear might be like, but I figured I’d find out soon enough.

  I worked out a little in the hotel room, doing some exercises to loosen up. My foot seemed to have healed nicely and there was no trace of the cornada wound. Earth doctors could do wonders, as they said. I hoped Wolfe had some good ones on his payroll.

  Pancho and I were taken to the stadium. It was a long ride, almost to the edge of town. I kept wondering about the Heller and what he had said. I hoped he was all right.

  The stadium was open at the top, with heated stands. Looked like it could hold over 100,000 people and although it was early, it was already filling up. The sky was blue and clear overhead. I asked whether we could see the bear.

  Our bodyguard shrugged and led us down a series of corridors and stairs. I could smell the animals before we saw them. Hear them, too. They made a lot of noise.

  “In there,” the bodyguard said, gesturing at a door. He leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. “Take a good look.”

  Inside was a huge room, filled with caged animals of all descriptions, some I didn’t recognize. They all had one thing in common, though — they all looked dangerous. I walked around and … there!

  Even on all fours, it was nearly as tall as me. Easily over a thousand kilos. It paced restlessly from one end of the cage to the other, taking random swipes at the bars with a huge paw as it went. Its fur was a dirty yellow-white and matted; it smelled like a thousand wet dogs. Foam dripped from its jaws.

  It looked like a bad dream come alive. I wanted out. This was crazy.

  When I turned from the bear, Pancho was talking with three men in the doorway. Several policemen stood out in the hall. Pancho didn’t look happy at all. Two of the men were heavy-set, burly types, the third had “lawyer” written all over him. He was carrying a folder. Copy of my contract, no doubt. I joined them.

  “Mr. Bok,” said the lawyer, extending his hand, “I represent Mr. Wolfe.”

  I ignored the hand. “Then you can tell Mr. Wolfe he can fight this creature himself.”

  “You jest, of course. The contract —“

  “I signed to fight a bear, not a monster.”

  “You signed to fight whatever we put you up against. Not to do so would be a serious breach of contract. At my word, if I felt you were inclined to back out of our agreement, these policemen would take you into custody. The penalty for breach of contract is one year for each P1000 forfeited. The judges around here are not lenient in such matters.”

  “And I suppose all the judges are hand-picked by our friend Mr. Wolfe.”

  He just grinned, the bastard. “Fifteen years in prison is a very long time, Mr. Bok. Besides, your two friends from last night, the gentleman from Hell and his small partner, will be anxious to watch you on the holo. They are special guests of Mr. Wolfe, and if you should fail to appear, it is possible they could meet with an accident. That would be tragic. I suggest you ready yourself for the match. It is almost time.”

  The two heavies followed us back to the dressing room. I felt like busting a few heads, but it was hopeless. They really had us. Maybe I did have rocks for brains.

  Pancho gave me a rubdown while we waited. He was somber and depressed, even more than I was. After a few minutes another guard came, this one armed with a heavy pistol on his hip. He handed me the knife I was supposed to use on the bear. It was smaller than my hand, worthless. Maybe I wouldn’t have to use it. Maybe I would.

  “Carl?”

  I turned to Pancho. He slapped me on the back, squeezed my arm. He was close to tears.

  “Good luck,” he said. “Come back.”

  “I have to come back,” I said, forcing a cheerfulness I didn’t feel. “My wheelchair’s stuck in a restroom in Deecee. Someone’s got to pay the rental on it.”

  We shook hands and I went out to face the bear.

  The crowd roared as I walked onto the sand. Didn’t all these people have anything better to do with their time than watch me get mauled? The stadium was filled. I felt dwarfed and insignificant as I walked to the middle of the arena. I was accompanied by two remote-controlled holo cameras about a meter tall that glided along beside me on stilted platforms. A referee stood on the edge of the sand. I noticed he didn’t carry a rifle. Another rule bent a little. An announcer was saying something over the loudspeaker, but I couldn’t make out the words through the noise of the crowd. Then they let the bear loose and the stands went wild.

  It was easy to see who they were rooting for.

  At first the bear just circled the arena, panting and sniffing at everything. He seemed to be confused about where he was. Maybe I had a chance, after all. I just kept away from him, stayed on the opposite side of the arena. This lasted about five minutes. Then he sat down and sniffed at the air, weaving his massive head back and forth. I had a wild feeling that he might fall asleep.

  Then he smelled me.

  He came forward in a slow lope. I had to move away from the wall so I wouldn’t get cornered. I faked a movement to my left and he wasn’t fooled a bit. He didn’t seem to be mad or anything, just curious. When he hit me I got the feeling that it was a playful slap. It sent me flying about ten meters and I landed on my side with my ears ringing. Before I could get to my knees, he was on me, rolling me around like a ball. He still seemed to be playing, not hitting very hard, but a thousand-kilo playmate was something I didn’t need. I rolled out of his reach and got to my feet.

  The next time he came at me, I twisted around and got on his back. That had worked once. He didn’t like that too much and tried to shake me off. I held onto his thick fur with one hand and tried to find the pressure points on his neck with the other. It was impossible. His fur was too thick, I couldn’t get enough pressure on the arteries. He kept pulling his head around, trying to bite me. His jaws made a horrible snapping sound, his teeth were huge, his breath stunk. He was getting mad.

  He tried rolling over and I jumped free, got out of the way, fast. He could squash me with no trouble at all. I tried running away and slipped. By the time I got to my feet he was on me, rearing back on his hind legs.

  I knew exactly what that old trapper had felt like. This was the first time I’d seen the bear upright and it was frightening. Tall! I went weak in my knees. He grabbed me easily with one huge paw. I fought it without any effect. His claws were as long as my hand. The other arm hit me hard and before I knew what was happening, he’d drawn me up to his chest. My face was buried in his smelly fur and I struggled like a wild man. I kicked and I bit and I threw my arms and legs everywhere they would reach. Nothing worked. My ears started pounding and all I could see was red. I was blacking out. I tried to get to my knife, couldn’t. I bit at his fur, huge chunks of it came off in my mouth. I spit it out, bit some more. I kicked and kicked and kicked and something must have happened because I suddenly became aware of his loud roar and I was rolling end over end across the sand. This time I drew my knife. It seemed pitifully small.

  He charged and I swung. No doubt about it now — he was mad. I tried for his eyes, figuring that was my only chance. I never came close. He batted my hand away and I watched the knife fly into the stands. Gone.

  Then I noticed my hand; it was slashed and bloody, the tendons were showing. I must have looked too long because out of nowhere a huge paw filled with claws caught me in the chest and sent me flying. Everything below my chin was covered with blood. I shook my head. There had to be an answer. A holo camera moved in for a good shot.

  Cube squares. It came to me just like that.

  There are limits as to how large any given animal can grow. The
re is always an inhibiting factor. I’m about as large as any human can be. If they’re much larger, their skeletons can’t support their weight. That’s why they can’t grow ants as big as houses. That bear was big. Too big. Something had to give.

  At the next charge I hit him hard and low. He wasn’t expecting anything like that and he lost his balance for a second. A second was all I needed. I threw everything I had against the leg that was holding his weight. He went over with a loud crack. A broken bone. Maybe now I could hold my own. He roared in pain, stood on his hind legs.

  Oh damn, a front leg. I had to break a front leg! I backpedaled as fast as I could. It wasn’t near fast enough. He was coming and he was coming hard. Blood flecked at his mouth and his head swished back and forth as he roared and charged at me. I never had a chance. He caught me a good one along the side of my head. Everything went black for a split second and I tasted blood and suddenly there he was, hovering over me on his back two legs, ready for the kill. I was backed up against a wall, nowhere to go. A holo camera was silently circling around to get a good close-up of the bear ripping me apart. Too close.

  The bear stood to his full height and pulled back his good arm. I twisted to my right and grabbed the holo camera by its base. He swung and I swung, putting everything I had behind it. I was a little faster and mashed the side of his head with the camera. He went down in a heap, legs twitching. He was out cold.

  Cold meant unconscious. I’d won. It took a few seconds for that to sink in. Then I could hear the crowd through the ringing in my ears. I’d won! I dropped the holo camera and it automatically righted itself. Flowers and beer bottles were being thrown through the air. I didn’t care about that at all. P15,000 was waiting for me at the end of the corridor. But before I’d made it off the sand, my legs gave out from under me and I guess I kind of passed out for a while.

  Because when I opened my eyes, B’oosa was there. The Dean, too. Pancho was there, everything was blurry, my eyes wouldn’t focus. They were arguing with somebody. I tried to sit up, couldn’t. My chest was sprayed with plastiflesh. Best I could do was to open my eyes and try to focus.