The Grand Wheel

‘What is he, a guest or a prisoner?’

‘He’d like to leave. But he’s too useful to us, in fact we’re most grateful to him. Let me tell you the story. As I said, Pendragon is a hustler – an interstellar gambler preying on less skilled races. He came to Solsystem expecting to clean up from the ignorant natives – but he came unstuck.’ Dom nodded with self-satisfaction. ‘He underestimated the Grand Wheel, so he’s getting what the hustler usually gets: no consideration.’

Swimming to one side of the tank, Pendragon seized in an undulating flapper what looked like a rod-mike, the flesh of his limb enclosing it completely. A voice, at once resonant and hissing, came from an external speaker.

‘I deserve consideration now! I have done what you asked! Release me!’

The demand reminded Scarne of his own angry remonstrances with Magdan. Dom’s reply, too, followed the same form. ‘We’ll free you on completion of the arrangement, Pendragon,’ he said. ‘Not before.’

Pendragon let go the rod-mike and retreated sullenly to the rear of the tank.

‘What is this arrangement?’ Scarne enquired. ‘Or shouldn’t I ask?’

For an answer Dom stepped to a pedestal and operated a small control unit. The adjoining wall of the cellar suddenly vanished, eradicated by a floor-to-ceiling hologram.

‘You may ask,’ Dom said, ‘since you will have to know eventually, provided you understand that your life will be conditional upon your respecting my confidence.’

The hologram was a map of the galaxy, including, like off-shore islands, the Magellanic Clouds. Further to one side, in an inset, was a smaller map of the Andromeda galaxy. Scarne studied the layout briefly. The minute portion controlled by human civilization was clearly marked, as was the territory of the Hadranics – the latter’s expansionist tendency being shown by thrusting arrows. The map contained other data, too: wavering coloured lines, stars indexed according to a code at the bottom of the hologram.

‘Little of this information is definite,’ Dom said. ‘We’ve gleaned it, one way and another, from Pendragon. It locates some of the civilizations in unexplored parts of the galaxy, and also some particular contact points.’

‘Contact points?’

Dom was staring raptly at the map. ‘The world, it emerges, is bigger than any of us had thought,’ he murmured. ‘There are wheels within wheels, Scarne. Wheels within wheels, worlds within worlds.’

He turned his back to the map, his manner suddenly brisker. ‘And gambling, it is clear, is by no means a preoccupation unique to humanity. Most intelligent life has a taste for it – yet one more indication, one might think, that contingency and hazard, rather than formal laws, are what lie at the root of existence. Not only that, but there is gambling on a very large scale – larger than anything our civilization can offer.’

He glanced at Scarne. ‘Given these circumstances, it shouldn’t take you long to guess that there exists an organization analogous to our own, but operating on a galactic scale, or greater: a syndicate whose operations cover thousands, if not millions, of species.’

This colossal, totally new thought was spoken so blandly that Scarne could scarcely believe he was taking in the import of Dom’s words. Yet Dom had no reason to lie. Scarne looked again at the creature in the tank … there was the evidence.

‘Oddly enough this super-syndicate also calls itself the Wheel,’ Dom ruminated, ‘possibly for the same reason – the language of symbols might well turn out to be universal. That would be interesting, wouldn’t it? Or perhaps it’s to represent the wheel of the galaxy. As yet we’re not sure whether they are restricted to this galaxy alone, or if they actually originate from outside. That’s why we’ve tried to get Pendragon to tell us something about Andromeda, but his knowledge of that quarter is sketchy.’

‘Then your game,’ Scarne said quietly, ‘is with them.’

‘Yes!’ Dom’s eyes became lustrous. ‘A game with the Galactic Wheel – that’s what this is all about. With the help of Pendragon we eventually made contact. Now we’re on the verge of setting something up.’

‘Are the Hadranics anything to do with this? I heard this training programme has something to do with the war.’

Dom shook his head. ‘We’re not interested in them. We’re thinking on a bigger scale. We aren’t the sort of people to stay huddled in our own little corner, collecting pennies, now we know what’s going on out there in the wider world. If this Galactic Wheel exists we want a piece of it. I think we’ve got what it takes to get it.’

‘How do you know you can play your way into this galactic thing?’ Scarne asked. ‘You might just stay punters. How intelligent are they? How much experience have they got? Do you even know any of this?’