The Soul Eater of Flipimoff IV (eBook)

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“The boss wants a word wit youse.”
Ignatz Bauer looked up from the gaming table into the lone eye of the blue feathered pile of muscle without a neck who towered over him. His heart sank through his stomach and into the toes of his boots.
The fact that the pit boss had sent the Crawkriew to collect him left no doubt in Ignatz’s mind of the attention he’d attracted. There was little hope of him avoiding the consequences of his indiscretion.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
“Orna, how’s it going? Long time no-see. How’re the husband and chicks?”
“Quit stalling’, Bauer. He means you is to come to him now.”
Someone shouted, “Kango!”
Ignatz swallowed the nervous lump growing in his throat and raised a finger to the bouncer. “Ah, a moment, if you don’t mind.”
He turned his full attention to the table with the intention of collecting the last of his evening’s winnings and obeying the summons. But as he saw the pile of chips being pushed toward him by the dealer, his foreboding turned to shear panic when he realized he’d won.
“Crap,” he muttered. It would have been far easier to persuade the pit boss he wasn’t cheating if he’d not just made the biggest haul of the evening.
“Let it ride,” he called out nervously as he threw the last of his chips on the table. The best he could hope for now was to lose it all, proving—maybe—that he’d merely had a lucky run that had now ended.
A cheer for his bravado arose from the spectators who had gathered around the table. A dozen bets were feverishly placed in the hope of riding on Ignatz’s winning coat tales. The game master closed the bets and started rubbing a pile of sticks between two of his hands. He tossed them onto the red felt table to form a messy bird’s nest of a pile.
Anticipation hushed the crowd as all eyes were glued to the table.
“Kango, again!”
Ignatz’s shoulders slumped. “Shit,” he said as an even larger pile of chips was pushed toward him.
“Now, Bauer,” said the feathered bouncer. “Leave the chips.”
A three fingered hand enveloped his upper arm and he was frog marched across the casino and up a short flight of steps to the aerie occupied by the pit boss.
A short, stocky gremlin of a humanoid who sat behind a far too large desk greeted him with a mocking grin.
“Ignatz. It’s been a long time since you had the cajones to show your face in here.”
“Hey, Fraz,” said Ignatz, trying to sound casual. “How’re they hanging’?”
“Lower than yours will by the time I’m done with you.”
Ignatz reflexively squeezed his knees together and grimaced. “Um, is there a problem?”
“Not any more. What made you think you could cheat the house…again? Especially after last time when I was nice enough let you go with just a warning. I see that you grew your thumbs back.”
Ignatz quickly clasped his hands behind his back.
“What makes you think I was cheating?”
“The fact that you were winning, maybe.”
Ignatz tried to swallow, but his mouth was dirt dry.
“Look, the way I see it, I was doing you a service.”
“Huh? How do you figure?”
“By seeing me win, your other patrons have developed a hope that it is possible for them to do so as well. That will translate into more money wagered and lost to the house. You will make far more than the meagre pittance that fortuitously landed in my lap.”
“Fortuitously? I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on, Fraz. Do you think I am stupid enough to try cheating you a second time?”
“Yes.”
“You do. Oh…well, while there might be a slight statistical probability that you’re right, I assure you—”
“Save it and sit down.”
Ignatz stared at him, blinking several times.
“I told you to sit. Do your knees still bend?”
Bauer quickly sank into the seat across the desk and covered his knees with his hands.
“Ahem, what can I do for you, Fraz?”
“I have a job for you.”
Ignatz arched an eyebrow. “After the last time--”
“I know what I said,” said Fraz. “This time is different. It even pays.”
Ignatz sat straighter. “Well, you have my full attention. How much does it pay?”
“I’ll overlook what you stole from me this evening and let you walk out of here intact. How does that sound?”
Bauer swallowed the lump in his throat. “That is a very generous offer, Fraz. What is it you need me to do?”
“I need something delivered.”
Ignatz frowned. “That’s it? Why do you need me to do that?”
“Because I want the item delivered to the Dragan system.”
“Oh. Um, is there something else I can do for you instead?”
“Nope. Are you in, or do I have Orna sharpen her claws?”
Ignatz’s eyes darted to the Crawkriew bouncer standing guard by the door.
“Okay, then…” he said. “What do you need delivered?”
Fraz reached for something beside his chair, and grunting to lift it, produced a black featureless cylinder which he placed on the desk.
“What the heck is that?”
“None of your business. I just need it delivered with no questions asked by customs agents, if you get my drift.”
“So, you want me to smuggle it. How do I know it won’t explode?”
“It’s not a bomb. It’s not even dangerous as long as the canister remains sealed.”
“So it’s toxic, then,” said Ignatz, nodding in what he hoped was a wise appearing manner to mask the butterflies gathering in his stomach.
“No, it isn’t, but that doesn’t mean you won’t die if you open it.”
Ignatz tore his gaze from the cylinder to look at Fraz. “Huh?”
“Just don’t open it and nothing will happen to you. Understand?”
Ignatz guffawed. “Of course,” he said, waving a casually dismissive hand. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Good, because if anyone but the recipient opens it—”
“I get it, Fraz. Don’t worry. When do you need it delivered by?”
“Five days.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
“It’s all the time you get.”
“I can’t make it to Dragan in five days. It’s on the other side of the cluster. It will take me at least two weeks, and that is only if my ship was in peak condition, which it’s not.”
“You’ve got five days, Bauer. Do you want the job or not?”
Ignatz swallowed and nervously looked at Orna, who seemed to be smiling, but Ignatz couldn’t be certain with a Crawkriew.
Turning back to Fraz, he said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“No excuses for failing, Bauer. I’ll know and I’ll find you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
Ignatz stood and reached for the canister. It was a lot heavier than it looked and he struggled to lift it.
Looking at Fraz, he said, “Who am I delivering it to?”
“Belgar Tranguzzy.”
“The gangster.”
“The same. I hope that isn’t a problem for you.”
“Oh, no. Belly and I go ‘way back. Is there anything else I should know?”
Fraz smiled. “Probably, but it’s more fun not telling you.”
“Oh, ha-ha. You’re a peach, Fraz.”
Ignatz tucked the heavy canister under his arm and walked to the door. The Crawkriew didn’t move.
Scowling, he looked up at her and said, “Do ya mind?”
“Let him go, Orna. I have a feeling that you’ll get your chance with Mister Bauer very soon.”
Ignatz sneered at him. “Yeah? Well, both of you should prepare to be disappointed.”

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