City of Baraboo

I looked up and down the midway. "Where are the grifters?"

Motor Mouth shrugged. "Gone, I guess. They weren't getting any business." He stood. "Got to get back to work, Warts. By the way, Mr. John said he wanted to see you two when you came back on the lot."

I nodded, then Fish Face and I left the midway and headed for the office wagon. Mr. John was sitting on the stairs observing the Asthuian lot lice and chuckling to himself. When he saw us he got to his feet. "Well, you two, are you going to have an army of coppers dropping on us?"

I grimaced while Fish Face shook his head. We came to a stop in front of him, then I folded my arms. "Mr. John, what's going on? Why aren't the kid shows selling tickets, and where are the lucky boys, and—"

O'Hara held up his hands, then rubbed them together. "One at a time, Warts." He looked at Fish Face. "Good to have you back."

Fish Face nodded. "I'd like to hear some answers, too, Mr. John."

O'Hara smiled, clasped his hands behind his back, and bounced back and forth from his toes to his heels. "Well, about the sideshow tickets, they don't carry any money. What they'll do is keep in mind what they owe, then the next time they pass one of those credit exchange terminals, each one will transfer the proper amount to the show's account."

I scratched my head. "Are you sure you can trust them?"

"Why, yes, Warts. I didn't believe it when Rat Man first gave me the information on this planet, but there it is. They simply have no conception of dishonesty, stealing, cheating. Also, they are not what you might call impulse buyers. Everyone who wanted to attend the show made up their minds when the advance went through and bought reserved tickets."

"What about the grifters?"

O'Hara's grin evidenced that he was approaching the favorite part of his revelations. "To be sucked in by a grifter, you have to have a little grifter in your soul. Something for nothing is something these folks just don't understand."

I rubbed my chin, then nodded. "You can't cheat an honest man—or Asthuian." I nodded again. "The show is going to make a bundle on Chyteew, isn't it?"

"Looks that way."

I pursed my lips. "And the money you got from Boston Beau is still yours."

He shrugged. "I lived up to my part of the bargain."

"Is that it?"

O'Hara bounced on his toes and heels some more. "Well, the Monarch of Ahngar did offer to discharge the rest of the amount owed on the City of Baraboo if I'd get the slick gentlemen off his planet—" The Governor looked up, then smiled as he saw Boston Beau Dancer approaching.

"Mr. John." Boston Beau stopped, nodded at Fish Face and myself, then turned back to the Governor. "What about at the end of your tour on Chyteew? Can my boys get transportation to Vistunya?"

The Governor nodded. "As we agreed, if at the conclusion of our stay on Chyteew you wish to renew your offer, I will accept." Boston Beau raised his brows, pursued his lips, and cocked his head to one side. "Another twenty-two million credits." O'Hara nodded, then opened the door to the office wagon.

"That was the agreement." He smiled. "See you then." He entered the wagon and closed the door. Fish Face chuckled and walked off.

Boston Beau shook his head, turned, and began walking slowly toward the front entrance. I just couldn't resist. "Hey, Boston Beau!"

He turned back and glowered at me. "What?"

I made the longest, most disgusting slurping sound that I could manage. The slick gentleman stared at me for an instant, then he smiled, waved, and left laughing.

Karl Arnheim entered the Board room at A&BCE, Inc. and noticed immediately that his customary place at the head of the conference table was occupied by Milton Stone. The accountant looked up from his conversation with several of the board members and nodded at Arnheim. "Karl." The room became silent as Arnheim looked around the faces at the table. Stone cleared his throat. "We tried to get in touch with you, Karl, but you refused all calls from me for the past three weeks. You see, you are no longer the president of A&BCE." Stone grinned. "I am." Stone leaned back in the president's chair and clasped his fingers over his belly. "From now on this is a business, and it shall be run as a business; not as the personal tool of a revenge-bent madman."

To the sounds of "Hear, hear," Karl Arnheim turned and went to the board room door. Upon reaching it, he stopped, turned back, and examined the faces around the table as though he were engraving their images upon a mental list. Then, he opened the door, turned, and left.

Milton Stone giggled, then cleared his throat for attention. "The first order of business, gentlemen is to find a buyer for the Arnheim & Boon Circus. Perhaps, at last, A&BCE can get out of the circus business."

V Sweet Revenge EDITION 2145

TWENTY-SEVEN

Adjya Sum, Nuumiian Ambassador to the United States of Earth, looked from beneath his dark hood with cold, approving eyes. Those eyes studied Karl Arnheim, former President of Arnheim & Boon Conglomerated Enterprises. The human sat at the visitor's place at the Board of Directors' table, arms folded, legs crossed, eyes steady. Many Nuumiians held the humans in contempt, but not Sum—not since Karl Arnheim had taken on his Goatha against John J. O'Hara.

Several of the directors seated around the table wriggled under Arnheim's stare, reaching self-consciously under linen collars with sticky fingers. Karl Arnheim was possessed of a fine hate—a hate that had been fine-tuned by his removal as President of A&BCE—a hate that a Nuumiian could both understand and respect.

The Board's Secretary cleared his throat, nodded quickly at Arnheim and the Nuumiian without taking his eyes from his notes, then turned his head toward the head of the table. Almost dwarfed by the plush chair at the head of the table, former A&BCE accountant Milton Stone nodded back. "You may begin, Otto."

The Secretary again cleared his throat. "Very well... Karl Arnheim, in possession of twenty-seven percent of the voting stock of A&BCE has placed before this board a motion in accordance with the charter of A&BCE, that being—"

"Skip that." Milton Stone smiled. "Let's get to the motion. I'm certain that we all understand the rules."

"Yes, Mr. Stone." The Secretary flushed, ran his finger around his collar, and again cleared his throat. The Nuumiian gave an imperceptible nod. Sum knew that even human insensitivity could not ignore Arnheim's wrath. The secretary flipped a page, then began reading. "The motion... proposed by Mr. Arnheim... is to remove the present Board of Directors and... officers, and to have the stockholders elect new officers and—"

"Very well, very well." Milton Stone looked around the table, stopping on Karl Arnheim. "Karl, I don't want to appear abrupt, but you have put this board to a great deal of trouble with this stunt." Stone leaned forward, put his elbows on the table, and pressed his fingertips together. "You are a maniac, Karl. You would destroy this corporation in your crusade to destroy O'Hara's Greater Shows, which is something we can't have. A&BCE ran the Arnheim & Boon Circus at an incredible loss for over two years, while every other circus on the star road was making incredible profits—including O'Hara's, I might add. We had to remove you in order to protect our own shares, and I warrant we shall do so again." He turned to the Secretary. "Otto, would you get Mr. Boon on the closed channel. I think we're ready to vote." Ambassador Sum noted Arnheim's pleasure as the angry man threw down a stack of papers. "Don't bother, Otto. You see, as of this morning, Mr. Boon is no longer a stockholder of A&BCE. I now own fifty-three percent of the voting stock."