The Moon Moth and Other Stories Read Online Free Page B

call a hundred thousand munits our maximum pay-off.”
    Magnus Ridolph nodded. “Thank you.” He crossed the lobby, entered the library. On one wall was a map of the planet, with red discs indicating the location of each tumble.
    Magnus Ridolph located Vine Hill and Roaring Cape Tumbles, and found Pink Stone Table, the latter near an arm of Drago Bay. Magnus Ridolph went to a rack, found a large scale physiographic map of the area under his consideration. He took it to a table and spent half an hour in deep concentration.
    He rose, replaced the map, sauntered through the lobby and out the side entrance. The pilot who had flown him the previous evening rose to his feet smartly. “Good evening, Mr. Ridolph. Intending another ride?”
    “As a matter of fact, I am,” Magnus Ridolph admitted. “Are you free?”
    “In a moment, as soon as I turn in my day’s report.”
    Ridolph looked thoughtfully after the pilot’s hurrying figure. He quietly stepped around to the front entrance. From the vantage of the open door he watched the pilot approach Bruce Holpers and speak hastily.
    Holpers ran a lank white hand through his red hair, gave a series of nervous instructions. The pilot nodded sagely, turned away. Magnus Ridolph returned by the route he had come.
    He found the pilot waiting beside the ship. “I thought I had better notify Clark that I was coming,” said Ridolph breezily. “In case the car broke down, or there were any accident, he would understand the situation and know where to look for me.”
    The pilot’s hands hesitated on the controls. Magnus Ridolph said, “Is there game of any sort on Kokod?”
    “No sir, none whatever.”
    “A pity. I am carrying with me a small target pistol with which I had hoped to bag a trophy or two…Perhaps I’ll be able to acquire one or two of the native weapons.”
    “That’s quite unlikely, sir.”
    “In any case,” said Magnus Ridolph cheerily, “you might be mistaken, so I will hold my weapon ready.”
    The pilot looked straight ahead.
    Magnus Ridolph climbed into the back seat. “To the Control office, then.”
    “Yes, Mr. Ridolph.”
    IV
     
    Everley Clark greeted his visitor cautiously; when Ridolph sat back in a basket chair, Clark’s eyes went everywhere in the room but to those of his guest.
    Magnus Ridolph lit an aromatique . “Those shields on the wall are native artifacts, I presume?”
    “Yes,” said Clark quickly. “Each tumble has its distinct colors and insignia.”
    “To Earthly eyes, the patterns seem fortuitous, but naturally and inevitably Kokod symbology is unique…A magnificent display. Does the collection have a price?”
    Clark looked doubtfully at the shields. “I’d hate to let them go—although I suppose I could get others. These shields are hard to come by; each requires many thousand hours of work. They make the lacquer by a rather painstaking method, grinding pigment into a vehicle prepared from the boiled-down dead.”
    Ridolph nodded. “So that’s how they dispose of the corpses.”
    “Yes; it’s quite a ritual.”
    “About those shields—would you take ten thousand munits?”
    Clark’s face mirrored indecision. Abruptly he lit a cigarette. “Yes, I’d have to take ten thousand munits; I couldn’t afford to refuse.”
    “It would be a shame to deprive you of a possession you obviously value so highly,” said Magnus Ridolph. He examined the backs of his hands critically. “If ten thousand munits means so much to you, why do you not gamble at the inn? Surely with your knowledge of Kokod ways, your special information…”
    Clark shook his head. “You can’t beat that kind of odds. It’s a sucker’s game, betting at the inn.”
    “Hmm.” Magnus Ridolph frowned. “It might be possible to influence the course of a battle. Tomorrow, for instance, the Vine Hill and Roaring Cape Tumbles engage each other, on Pink Stone Table, and the odds against Roaring Cape seem quite attractive.”
    Clark shook his head.