The Wishing Stone (4 page)

Sally lowered her voice to a whisper. “Cindy and I are from Spooksville. It's the roughest town on Earth. You may have heard about it from Charles. It's prepared us for places like this. I don't want to brag about our past but let's just say we've been in worse fixes than this before.”

“We have?” Cindy asked.

Sally continued as if she hadn't heard her. “Cindy and I are intelligent and resourceful. We will never accept this situation.” Sally glanced out the barracks window at the setting purple sun. “The Kasters are going to regret they ever brought us here.”

A
dam and Watch materialized underground in a huge rocky cavern. The place was far from empty but their sudden appearance didn't even cause a stir. There had to be a hundred different races milling about the cavern, which seemed to be a marketplace of sorts. There were creatures of every color and shape—some looked more like monsters than intelligent beings, especially the insectile beings. Adam shuddered as a couple came close and stared at him with several hundred emotionless eyes.

“Those two look like they'd like to have us for dinner,” Adam muttered.

“Yeah,” Watch said. “I think we'd better get off this platform. It's probably where people beam into this place.”

They headed into a corner of the cavern, in the direction of what looked like a food place. There were numerous tables set up and people were feasting on exotic dishes. Between the tables squat robots with square heads took orders and delivered meals.

“Do you think this is Amacron Thirty-seven?” Adam asked.

“No,” Watch said without hesitating. “This is not a slave planet. All these people look like they're out for an afternoon of shopping.”

“But why would the transporter send us to another planet?”

“You forget the Collector dropped the sphere as he fell,” Watch explained, still holding the instrument in his right hand. The laser he had tucked in his belt, under his shirt. “A button was probably pushed that moved the destination control to the next place on the list.”

“Makes sense. But maybe someone here can tell us how to set the sphere for the slave planet.”

“We might want to find out about Amacron Thirty-seven before we go barging in,” Watch said, finally putting the sphere in his front pocket.

Adam nodded. “Good idea.” He pointed to the far corner. “Let's sit at that table and act like we belong.”

They weren't seated long before one of the square-headed robots approached them to take their orders. It looked like a box of metal on wheels, except for its mouth, which faintly resembled a human mouth with a serious case of braces. It nodded as it approached and then gestured with an aluminum arm for them to speak, probably to figure out what planet they were from and what language they used. They figured this had to be correct because right after Adam and Watch said hello, it replied in a clear mechanical voice:

“Earth. English.”

“That's correct,” Watch said. “You speak English?”

“Fluently. What would you two sentient beings like to eat and drink?”

Adam glanced at Watch. “We don't have any gratoms. We better not order anything.”

“There is no charge for these services,” the
robot interrupted. “What would you like to eat and drink?”

Watch removed his glasses and cleaned them on the tail of his shirt. “What do you have?” he asked.

“To repeat verbally our complete menu in the English language would take a long time,” the robot said. “But we do have a wide variety of Earth dishes. Perhaps you could order and I will tell you if we can meet your needs.”

Adam brightened. “Could I have a turkey sandwich on white toast, with lettuce and tomato, no mayonnaise? And an order of French fries and a large Coke?”

“Certainly,” the robot said. He turned to Watch. “And you, sir?”

“I would like a pepperoni pizza with a large Coke.”

“Is that all?”

“Bring us some chocolate-chip cookies as well,” Watch said.

The robot was agreeable. “Your order will take ten earth minutes to prepare. But I can bring your drinks within two minutes.” The robot turned to leave.

“Excuse me,” Adam said. “Just before you go. What planet is this?”

“This is not a planet, sir, but an asteroid. Its name is Globar Ninety-two.”

“Are we far from Amacron Thirty-seven?” Watch asked.

“Yes. Two thousand seven hundred and eighteen point six light-years.”

“Thank you,” Adam said. “My friend and I will have ice with our Cokes.”

The robot left and Watch nodded seriously. “I suspected we were on an asteroid. Notice that this whole place is underground?”

“Yeah. But at least it's nice that we don't have to pay for lunch.”

“We should wait until we get our food to see how nice it is.”

Watch's concern proved groundless. The food—when it arrived—was very good. The Cokes, in fact, tasted identical to Earth's, but the robot explained that they were popular in even this part of the galaxy. Adam practically wolfed down his sandwich. Fighting with mysterious forces always made him hungry.

It was while they were eating their cookies that the stranger arrived. One moment they were alone and the next he was standing beside their table.

“May I join you?” he asked. But those were not exactly the words that came from his mouth. He spoke another language, but a voice box clipped to his belt provided them with the translation. Indeed, he had two extra boxes with him, which he quickly offered to Adam and Watch. Apparently they were universal translators that were often employed in such places as Globar 92. Adam and Watch clipped them onto their own belts.

“Sure,” Adam said as the box translated his word into the visitor's language. “You can sit down.”

“But before you do, we would prefer you to tell us what you want,” Watch said.

Adam understood Watch's concern. The guy would have stood out at a Halloween party. He was ghastly thin and white as a bed sheet. His features were human as far as shape and function, but his eyes were completely blue, as was his long robe. To top it off he was smoking a fat cigar and didn't have a trace of hair on his body. On the crown of his head he wore a square blue cap. He blew cigar smoke Watch's way as Watch's comment was translated by the box he had just clipped to his belt.

“My name is Fur,” he said. “I am well known in
these parts. Ask anybody about me, they'll give you a good recommendation.”

“What would they recommend you for?” Adam asked.

“I am a trader,” Fur said. “I make deals, good deals. May I sit down?”

“Yes,” Adam said. “I'm Adam and this is Watch.”

“Pleased to meet you both.”

“Why are you called Fur?” Watch asked. “You look like you don't have a hair on your body.”

Fur appeared displeased as he pulled up a chair. “Is it the custom on your world to insult somebody because he is bald?” He stroked his shiny white head. “When I get a little ahead, I plan on having a hair transplant.”

“Where are they going to transplant it from?” Watch asked. “Your twin sister?”

“Fur,” Adam said quickly. “My friend doesn't mean to be rude. We're just curious about what you want.” He added, “We're strangers here.”

“I can see that,” Fur said. “I spotted you the moment you came in, and have been studying you since.” He paused. “I know you're from Earth, and that you're young by that society's standards.”

“We're not that young,” Watch said.

Fur smiled and they saw that his teeth were blue as well. “I am not bald and you are not young. Very well, we are off to a good start.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. The translator softened as well—it was clearly capable of distinguishing different emotional tones. “I couldn't help noticing that you came in carrying a Kaster transporter.”

“We did?” Adam asked. “I mean, yeah, so what? It's a good make.”

Fur's smile broadened. “The Kasters do not sell their transporters, not willingly. I can only assume you obtained this one through—how should I put it?—unusual means.”

Watch shrugged. “I don't see what business that is of yours.”

Fur shrugged. “I am not interested in how you got it. I just want to know if you want to sell it.”

“No,” Watch said.

“Don't you want to know what I would give you for it in return?” Fur asked.

“No,” Watch said.

Adam raised a hand. “Just a second, Watch. Let's listen and see what's available.” He paused. “What are you offering, Mr. Fur?”

“Just call me Fur. I can offer you pretty much whatever you want.” He laughed out loud. “You really should ask about me. They'll tell you that there's nothing Fur can't get you, and quick.”

“Except perhaps a Kaster transporter,” Watch said.

Fur lost his smile. “They are not easily available, it is true. But come, name your price. I am willing to bargain.”

“Can you give us twenty thousand gratoms?” Watch asked.

Fur blinked. “You can't be serious? I don't have that kind of wealth. There isn't a sentient being in this place who does. What's the matter? Do you owe a Kaster Collector a Wishing Stone debt?”

Adam hesitated. “As a matter of fact we do.”

Fur nodded, taking it all in. “And the Collector appeared and tried to collect the debt. And somehow you two destroyed the Collector and took its transporter. I see the whole picture now. Am I right?”

“You're close,” Adam admitted. “Before we could take care of the Collector, it managed to transport two of our friends to Amacron Thirty-seven.” He added, “They're Sally and Cindy. I don't suppose you've heard about them?”

Fur was grave. “I have not heard of them nor will they ever be heard from again. If they have gone to a Kaster slave planet, there is no escape for them. They are doomed to work as slaves for the remainder of their lives.”

“Sally always was a good worker,” Watch said, trying to put a positive spin on the matter. But Adam was appalled.

“There must be some way to save them,” he said.

Fur shook his head. Apparently that meant no in that part of the galaxy, too.

“The Kasters keep perfect records,” he explained. “They never allow a debt to go unpaid. That is the cornerstone of their ruthless reputation. Even if you could somehow get onto Amacron Thirty-seven—which would be next to impossible—they would still have a record of your friends' debts. They would hunt them down to the last corner of the galaxy and make them pay.”

“Where are these records kept?” Watch asked.

Fur had to think. “In various places. For Amacron Thirty-seven I imagine the records are stored on Tallas Four. That's in the Orion sector. But you don't want to go there.”

“Why not?” Adam asked.

Fur wrinkled his nose. “They have lousy food.”

Adam and Watch looked at each other.

“Is there another reason we can't go to Tallas Four besides the lousy food?” Adam asked.

“Lots of reasons,” Fur said. “It is a heavily fortified moon. Get within half a light-year of it and the Kaster will blow you out of the sky.” He paused. “Why would you want to go there?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Adam asked. “We want to erase the record of our friends' debts.”

Fur snorted. “That isn't going to happen.”

Adam spoke in a stern voice. “If it doesn't happen you're not going to get our Kaster transporter.”

Once again Fur lost his smile. “I can't take you to Tallas Four. Even my wonderful ship—the
Fruitfly
—doesn't have a force field capable of withstanding what they would hit us with.”

“But what if you had a Kaster force field surrounding your ship?” Watch asked.

Fur was instantly interested. “You have such a device?”

“We have a portable force field generator,” Adam said quickly. “We don't know if it can protect your ship.”

“If it's the one I'm thinking of, it can protect a whole battleship.” Fur stuck out his white hand. “Let me see it.”

Watch hesitated. “How do we know you'll give it back once we hand it over?”

“Because if I cheated you here in front of all these people my reputation would be permanently ruined. Don't worry, Watch. I just want to check its serial number.”

Watch took out the oval-shaped generator and gave it to Fur, who studied it intently. Apparently the serial number was not something you read on the side of the object. But finally Fur's face brightened.

“You must have wished for the top of the line!” he exclaimed.

“Naturally,” Watch said.

Fur continued. “The size of the field can be adjusted to accommodate the
Fruitfly.
The field can even be altered so that it makes my ship temporarily invisible. But that does not mean that we can simply break into Tallas Four and erase all the Kaster records. To do that we would have to blow up their computers—and that would take heavy fire power.”

Watch pulled out the laser pistol. “Would this help?”

Fur was not impressed. “You didn't ask for the top of the line there. That's a beryllium laser. They're dependable but nothing special.”

“Why can't we just beam ourselves to Tallas Four using the Raster transporter?” Adam asked.

“Tallas Four is shielded, as is Amacron Thirty-seven. You cannot transport through a shield. You need to take a ship, and then the ship has to either sneak by the shield with another Raster vessel, or else break through it directly.” Fur shook his head. “Either way the chances of success are not good. Why don't I give you something else for the transporter and the portal generator? I would like them both. How about I give you my own house? I own an asteroid in the Taurus quadrant. You would have a great view of the Milky Way there, and the homeowner association charges are reasonable.”