The Thief of Thoth

17

THE OUTLAW PLANET in the Gap was not very much larger than his own domain of Carvel in the Chain of Astarte. And unlike the Astartean system, this one consisted of a single minor planet, rather than a belt of asteriods, a system moreover devoid of even a parent star, for Thieves' Haven drifted alone in the blackness of the abyss-like rift between the two galactic arms. Rumor had it that the planetoid had once been a rogue world wandering space until it fell under the scrutiny of a band of master space-thieves who had the worldlet terra-formed at vast expense, triggering a nuclear "round-robin” effect in the planetoidal core for heat, and stimulating the ionic field about the new atmosphere for sunlight, or a near equivalent thereof.

Landing at the planet's only spacefield, Hautley locked his ship and consulted his timepiece. Less than two hours had elapsed since he had bade farewell to Pawel Spiro back on Carvel. The imposter would presumably suspend independent operations until receiving final word from Hautley Quicksilver, who had promised to either accept or define his contract within twenty-seven hours. Twenty-five hours remained before Hautley must make up his mind. And within this interval, he must accomplish a variety of routine tasks.

He must locate Shpem Huferd, and extract from the retired accomplice of Dugan Motley the current location and present pseudonym of the Master-Burglar of Capitan.

He must secure a personal interview with this Dugan Motley, and pump him of relevant information regarding Motley's famous attempt to steal the reptillian artifact, in particular, a description of the various measures taken by the Neotbothic priesthood to protect their jewelled treasure from thievery; and the means by which Dugan Motley, and Dugan Motley alone of all the criminals who had attempted to steal the Crown, had escaped from the grip of the fanatic Crown-guardians unharmed and unpunished.

He must furthermore decide which, of the three potential clients who had applied for his services, be would accept a contract from, and if at all possible, find out who or what was behind the imposter posing as Pawel Spiro.

Quite a list of things to be done within a mere twenty-five hours, but Hautley remained undaunted by the enormity of this caper. He proceeded about his business, having berthed his craft in a rented dock.

Emerging from the subterranean docking facilities to the upper levels of the outlaw world's one city, fittingly named Hideout, be took a glidewalk into the business district.

It was a fantastic metropolis, this capital city of Crime. Fabulous avenues lined with palaces of wine and gourmet foods, as well as most of the other pleasures which the flesh fell heir to (including thirteen totally new and original vices especially invented for Thieves' Haven by a team of galactically-famed psychologists, chemists and anatomical specialists retained by the local planetary government, known as The Syndicate, a generation earlier at incredible fees). Quicksilver had never before had occasion to land on the outlaw planet in the Gap in all his excitement-packed career, and he looked forward to a tour of the incredible City of Criminals.

While he gapped and gawked at the sights, the swiftly moving power-driven glidewalk carried him through a whirling panorama of storefronts and neon illuminated signs indicative of the pleasures that awaited within.

Others rode the glidewalk besides him, of course. And there was one of these that kept an unobtrusive eye on the stoop-shouldered form of the disguised Hautley Quicksilver.

This individual, a bald-domed, grey-complexioned Orgotry in fluorescent scarlet tights slashed with dead-black piping and puckered ruffs, ostensibly coughed into a cupped hand. Actually, between hacking spasms of glottal throat-clearing, the Orgotyr whispered into a ring-radio:

"It's Quicksilver, chief. What are my instructions?"

Although Hautley knew it not, yet another, a fourth claimant was interested in the Crown of Stars!