Delay in Transit Read Online Free Page A

there."
     
     
"A sensible man," declared Cassal. "Follow him."
     
     
Boldly the man headed toward a section of the city which Cassal had
not previously entered. He believed opportunity lay there. Not for
everyone. The shrewd, observant, and the courageous could succeed if--
The word that the quarry used was a slang term, unfamiliar to either
Cassal or Dimanche. It didn't matter as long as it led to money.
     
     
Cassal stretched his stride and managed to keep the man in sight. He
skipped nimbly over the narrow walkways that curved through the great
buildings. The section grew dingier as they proceeded. Not slums; not
the showplace city frequented by travelers, either.
     
     
Abruptly the man turned into a building. He was out of sight when Cassal
reached the structure.
     
     
He stood at the entrance and stared in disappointment. "Opportunities,
Inc.," Dimanche quoted softly in his ear. "Science, thrills, chance. What
does that mean?"
     
     
"It means that we followed a gravity ghost!"
     
     
"What's a gravity ghost?"
     
     
"An unexplained phenomenon," said Cassal nastily. "It affects the
instruments of spaceships, giving the illusion of a massive dark body
that isn't there."
     
     
"But you're not a pilot. I don't understand."
     
     
"You're not a very good pilot yourself. We followed the man to a gambling
joint."
     
     
"Gambling," mused Dimanche. "Well, isn't it an opportunity of a
sort? Someone inside is thinking of the money he's winning."
     
     
"The owner, no doubt."
     
     
Dimanche was silent, investigating. '"It is the owner," he confirmed
finally. "Why not go in, anyway? It's raining. And they serve
drinks." Left unstated was the admission that Dimanche was curious,
as usual.
     
     
     
     
Cassal went in and ordered a drink. It was a variable place, depending
on the spectator -- bright, cheerful, and harmonious if he were winning,
garish and depressingly vulgar if he were not. At the moment Cassal
belonged to neither group. He reserved judgment.
     
     
An assortment of gaming devices were in operation. One in particular
seemed interesting. It involved the counting of electrons passing through
an aperture, based on probability.
     
     
"Not that," whispered Dimanche. "It's rigged."
     
     
"But it's not necessary," Cassai murmured. "Pure chance alone is good
enough."
     
     
"They don't take chances, pure or adulterated. Look around. How many
Godolphians do you see?"
     
     
Cassal looked. Natives were not even there as servants. Strictly a clip
joint, working travelers.
     
     
Unconsciously, he nodded. "That does it. It's not the kind of opportunity
I had in mind."
     
     
"Don't be hasty," objected Dimanche. "Certain devices I can't
control. There may be others in which my knowledge will help you. Stroll
around and sample some games."
     
     
Cassal equipped himself with a supply of coins and sauntered through
the establishment, disbursing them so as to give himself the widest
possible acquaintance with the layout.
     
     
"That one," instructed Dimanche.
     
     
It received a coin. In return, it rewarded him with a large shower of
change. The money spilled to the floor with a satisfying clatter. An
audience gathered rapidly, ostensibly to help him pick up the coins.
     
     
"There was a circuit in it," explained Dimanche. "I gave it a shot of
electrons and it paid out."
     
     
"Let's try it again," suggested Cassal.
     
     
"Let's not," Dimanche said regretfully. "Look at the man on your right."
     
     
Cassal did so. He jammed the money back in his pocket and stood
up. Hastily, he began thrusting the money back into the machine. A large
and very unconcerned man watched him.
     
     
"You get the idea," said Dimanche. "It paid off two months ago. It
wasn't scheduled for another this year." Dimanche scrutinized the man
in a multitude of ways while Cassal continued play. "He's satisfied,"
was the report at last. He doesn't detect any sign of crookedness."
     
     
"Crookedness?"
     
     
"On your