"Ahead?... I don't know. You're lucky; what do you think?"
"I don't think we have much choice. J.C.'s coming."
And indeed he was. Bloody, naked, thorn-crowned, the bearded figure was driving the moneychangers from the temple before starting the task of rebuilding it.
"Saint Peter's will be in limbo for one hour, my children," he called out. "No need to leave, but you'll have to clear out of the gaming areas while we clean up. Refreshments are being served in the Pope Agnes Library, upstairs. Y'all come back, now, and bring money." He pulled a wall switch, and everything changed. Half the patrons vanished, along with most of the cathedral. There was a low white ceiling set with bare lights. Cleaning robots began to whir down the aisles, beeping angrily when they encountered the feet of slow-moving patrons.
"What do you say?" Lilo asked. "Are you tired of being taken?"
He laughed. "Maybe I ought to get out, for a little while anyway. You brought me luck. I'm at your disposal."
"All right. I think a bath might do us both some good. How long have you been here, anyway?"
Lilo knew very well that he had been in the casino for thirty-seven hours. Vaffa and Cathay had spelled her, keeping an eye on him, though Vaffa had stayed strictly in the background. She also knew his name, which was Quince, but she didn't tell him that. He was a holehunter, and a slightly unusual one, which was the cause of her interest.
Lilo had been working hard for the six days since Vaffa had given her a degree of freedom. Vaffa had decided that Lilo would be the one to operate on her own, because, while she did not really trust either one of them, she trusted Cathay less. But it had been a tough decision, and one she was still sweating over.
The job had not been easy, even without Vaffa. Quince was the best bet so far. The problem seemed to be that those hunters who owned their own ships didn't display the slightest interest in chartering them. A holehunter hunts holes, as she had been told many times and with great disdain; taxi drivers sell rides. The few working hunters who were on Pluto were there waiting for ships to be overhauled before setting out again, and they damn well did not intend to stop off at the Hotline.
Quince was a little different. Vaffa's research had turned him up. He had made three trips, all about thirty years in duration. He had been lucky the first time out and returned a very rich man. That money had financed his second trip, and his third, and he had not found a hole either time. When a hunter returns empty it generally falls to a bankruptcy court to divide the spoils. But Quince still owned his ship. He had a little money left, but not enough to outfit himself for a fourth trip. He had had no luck in finding backers; speculators tend to superstition, and have little desire to back a two-time loser. So he had tried for a year to win enough at the tables to go back out once more.
Saint Peter's was on the eighteenth level of the entertainment complex beneath the spaceport. They took a lift to the concourse and soon found a public bath. They stripped, and plunged into the soaking pool. Lilo floated on her back and listened to him complain about what a terrible run of luck he had been having. She commented sympathetically now and then, and gradually began to talk more about herself. He was easier to get into conversation than most hunters she had met. She decided it was because he'd been on the ground so long.
They moved to the sauna and didn't say anything as the heat baked their bodies. Then it was a quick plunge in ice water, and a more leisurely session in the shallow pool as steam curled around them. Lilo was scrubbing his back when she first brought up the subject of a trip.
"To nowhere?" he said. "What's the point of that?" He had not failed to notice the stacks of hard Lunar currency she had thrown away while sitting at his elbow. Lilo was "a rich tourist from Luna."
"No point. It would be fun. I could tell all my friends how far out I'd been. Everyone's been to Pluto."
"How far did you have in mind?"
"Oh, I don't know. I could think about that later." She sat on the side of the pool while he soaped her feet and legs. "But you don't really sound like you're interested."
He didn't say anything, and she didn't want to push. He seemed preoccupied as they moved through a small tropical garden where sprays and waterfalls rinsed the soap from them. They paused on a wooden footbridge, leaning on the rail. There was another couple shimmeringly visible behind the veil of a waterfall. She put her arm around his waist and stroked him as they watched, but he didn't respond. They moved through a corridor of hot-air blowers and a spray of powder. Lilo bought a brush from a machine and sat on a cushion combing the hair on her legs.
"What would you be willing to pay for a trip like that?"
"Oh, gee. I don't know. What do you think it would cost?" Another thoughtful silence threatened; she decided to prime him. "I guess—well, your expenses, of course. Whatever it actually costs you to get out there. Plus a fee."
They moved to the lamps and reclined on a long table with a dozen other people like pink and brown strips of bacon lined up on a griddle. After ten minutes they turned over.
"You still didn't say where you want to go."
"How about the Hotline?" She could hear the gears turning in his head, estimating costs and times. She already knew to a nicety what his expenses would be, given the size and acceleration of his ship. "I'd really like to go out there and listen to it. Just think, thousands of light-years away, people talking to me!"
"Seventeen light-years," Quince said, absently. "And you can't really—" He seemed to change his mind. "You might enjoy it," he finished.
They rinsed again, were blown dry and powdered. They skipped the massage, dressed, and went back into the concourse. Quince still seemed to be pondering a decision, so Lilo left him alone. She steered him into a lounge and ordered drinks for both of them. They found a secluded booth with dim lighting. Lilo glanced nervously at the glowing numbers on the cuff of her shirt; she was late. She knew Vaffa had tailed her the first two days she had been allowed out alone. Now she was supposed to be punctual about meetings. It would not be long before Vaffa began searching for her, and Lilo didn't know what would happen when she was found. She began to fear Vaffa would burst in on them and ruin the deal, so she decided to give him one more push.
"Okay, so I'll pay your expenses, plus... oh..." she named a figure fifty percent over what he would need to outfit and fuel his ship for a hunting run. He seemed tempted. Reflexively, he named a higher sum. It was half what Lilo had been authorized to pay.
"It's a deal," she said, holding out her hand. He shook it, and she felt a great relief. Vaffa could hardly fault her for being late because she had to close the deal.
"I'll have the money to you in lagtime, as soon as it clears my bank on Luna. Then you can call me as soon as you're ready to go." She held her breath for a moment, then plunged on. It had to work, it just had to. "Oh, there's one other thing. So you can figure weights and masses or whatever it is. My husband and my wife will be coming along."
"Three of you?"
It wasn't a question, but a way of saying the deal was off.
"Where have you been?"
Vaffa was as much relieved as angry, but she hid it well. She had been waiting near the edge of Center Park for half an hour, trying to decide how much tardiness would indicate desertion. Now she nearly broke Lilo's wrist as she grabbed her and pulled her deeper into the park. They took a wicker cable car to the three-hundred-meter level of one of the huge trees. Lilo could have used another drink, but instead of going inside Vaffa led her out on one of the broad, flat limbs. Soon they were among concealing foliage and hanging vines.