Looking through the crowd he saw several pink blurs who might have been Myra, or might not have been; there was no way of telling. He was patient. He and Myra had prearranged a signal, but first he had to waste some time in planting false leads for possible pursuers.
He lost five more chips in a quick interchange of Fhcker, then picked up a hundred and fifty with a lucky cast on the Rotowheel. He decided enough time had gone by. He operated the prearranged signal by going to the card tables at the back of the casino and taking a seat at an unoccupied one.
Almost immediately a house girl, identifiable by the crimson ribbon she wore tied to her mask, appeared. “Looking for a partner, sir?”
“No, thanks. I’m waiting for someone.”
Mantell turned down four more offers of a game, three from men, one from another house girl. Finally a pink blur approached, and said, in the flat unmodulated voice produced by the mask effect, “I’ll play with you if the stakes are in my league, stranger.”
Mantell smiled. It was Myra.
“I don’t play penny ante, Miss.”
She sat down. “Put your cards out where I can see them, and start dealing.”
He dealt. He sorted out the cards and dealt a hand of pseudo-rummy, and as he dealt he murmured lightly under his breath, “Your message reached me. I think you’re right. It’s time to act.”
“So do we. It’s inevitable that Ben will psychprobe someone and find out all about it before long. We have to strike at once.”
“When?”
She tossed three cards to the table. They were aces. “Tonight,” she said. “At midnight.”
The words seemed to reverberate through the noisy casino. Mantell’s hand shook as he produced the useless fourth ace, drawing it from the cards he held in his hand and dropping it atop the ones she had laid out.
“Tonight? How will it be done?”
“I’m going to do it,” Myra said. The distortion of the scattering field robbed her voice of any emotional overtone. “Thurdan has asked me to come to his apartment tonight. We have dinner, then do some work-minor details that he doesn’t have time to handle during the day. I’ll come tonight—with a knife. He’ll be surprised.”
Mantell dragged in the cards that lay scattered on the table and shuffled them mechanically, paying little attention to his actions.
He was staring at the electronically induced blur sitting across the table from him. He was realizing that he hardly knew the girl concealed behind it. She of the ice-blue eyes, Ben Thurdan’s secretary and fiancee, who casually proposed to assassinate Starhaven’s overlord tonight in his own home!
And yet Mantell knew he loved her.
“We’re all prepared for the attack,” she said. “Key men are ready to take over the moment he’s dead. There won’t be any lapse in the possession of power. Dr. Harmon will issue the public proclamation. The head of Ben’s private bodyguard corps, McDermott, is one of us too, and he’ll see to it that there’s no public disturbance. There’ll be a force on hand to capture the control tower. By morning the provisional government will be in complete control of Starhaven—we hope without a shot being fired.”
“Very neat,” Mantell said. “And who’s going to head this provisional government that’s taking over? You? Harmon? McDermott?”
“No,” said Myra tranquilly. “You are.”
Mantell sat very quietly, absorbing the implications of that, filtering out the noise of the casino and letting Myra’s calm words fill his mind.
“You are.”
Provisional Ruler of Starhaven. Johnny-on-the-spot.
You are.
“Why me?” he asked finally. “There must be others around more—”
“No. There aren’t. You’re new here, Johnny. You haven’t involved yourself in any feuds or made any enemies. People who would object to one leader or another will settle on you as being least objectionable, since you’ve had no contact with them, and so haven’t aroused any anger. You—”
“How do you know I want the job?”
“You said you’d do whatever you could to help us. This will help us.”
“I’m not cut out to be a dictator.”
“You won’t be. You’ll simply be acting head of the provisional government, until constitutional law can be established on Starhaven.”
He considered that. The time was nine forty-five. In two hours and fifteen minutes, Ben Thurdan would be dead. And Johnny Martell, late of Mulciber, former defense-screen technician, general drifted and man-about-the-beach, would rule the iron world of Starhaven.
It was a fast rise, he thought.
The revolution would be quick too. By morning it would be over.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. He started to rise from the table. She caught his arm and tugged him back into his seat.
“Not yet,” she said. “We haven’t finished our game.” She dealt out the cards.
Some twenty minutes later they decided it was safe to leave the Casino, and they repaired to the entrance, shed their masks. They met outside the Casino in the onyx corridor. Myra was wearing a clinging blue spray-on tunic that outlined her soft figure revealingly.
Tonight, Mantell thought, she would see Ben Thurdan for the last time. Tomorrow she’ll be mine.
They stepped out into the cool Starhaven night, strolling the broad plaza that fronted the Pleasure Dome. Overhead the sky was black, except for the mirror-bright moon and the sharp-focused stars. Ben Thurdan had put the moon and the stars up there deliberately, to cloak the artificiality of Starhaven. Mantell knew that they were simply lens projection that crossed the metal sky each night on a carefully computed schedule, and vanished by “morning.” It was like a giant planetarium—a planetarium the size of a world.
A faintly chill rain-laden wind was blowing down on them out of the east as they stood together in the darkness, thinking of tomorrow and the tomorrows yet to come. Thurdan’s weather engineers were shrewd planners. There was nothing synthetic seeming about Star-haven’s weather. When it rained, it rained wet.
“Ben’s a great man,” Myra said softly, apropos of nothing, after a while. “That’s why we have to kill him. He’s big—too big for Starhaven. As Caesar was too big for Rome.”
“You loved him, didn’t you?”
“I loved Ben, yes. For all his cruelty and his ruthless-ness, he was something special, something unique. Something a little more than a man.”
“Do we have to talk about him?” Mantell asked.
“If it hurts you, I won’t. But I’m trying to square things with my own conscience, Johnny. Ben has to die —now. Or else there’ll be hell on Starhaven when he dies naturally, and that day will have to come someday too. But still-”
It was strange, hearing her talk of conscience on this planet where conscience seemed to be a forgotten myth. Mantell turned to face her.
“Can I pry, Myra?”
“Into what?”
“You never told me why you came to Starhaven. Is it going to be a secret from me forever?”
She glanced sharply up at him. “Do you really want to know?” she asked.
He was silent for a moment, thinking. How terrible could her secret be, he wondered? Would it be some crime so ghastly it would drive a wedge between them forever, something that was better left untold?
He made up his mind. Nothing should be left untold. “Yes,” he said. “I want to know.”
“It wasn’t because I committed any crime, Johnny. I’m one of the few people on Starhaven who isn’t a fugitive from the law in some way.”
His eyes widened. “You’re not—”
“No. I’m no fugitive.”
“Then how did you come here?” he asked, bewildered. “And why?”
She was silent a moment. “Eight years ago,” she said finally, speaking as if from a great distance away. “Ben Thurdan left Starhaven for the first time since he had built it. He took a vacation. He travelled incognito to the planet of Luribar IX, and he spent a week at a hotel there. He met me there.”