The Grand Wheel

‘Why don’t you do it now, Cheyne?’

‘Huh?’ Scarne looked back at him with an expression half-blank, half of fright.

‘Come, come, Cheyne, I know, or at least I am almost sure, that you have once again decided to kill me, this time without giving me an honourable chance, before I am able to play the last game. Is it not true that you have a weapon of some sort secreted about your person?’

There was a long pause before Scarne could bring himself to reply. ‘Yes,’ he said then, thickly. ‘At least we’d be left with half …’

‘Well, go ahead,’ Dom invited. ‘Try to kill me.’

Why not? thought Cheyne. Dazedly he brought forth the handgun he had picked up earlier. It was a small-aperture Borges beamer, an ideal gun for close quarters and more commonly a woman’s weapon.

‘It’s obvious you had a reason for returning here before continuing the game,’ he said, holding the Borges uncertainly. ‘What were you doing in that tent?’

Dom did not answer, but continued smiling while Scarne raised the beamer and pressed the stud.

Nothing happened.

Scarne turned the gun over and opened the inspection plate. ‘The charge failed,’ he announced, peering in. ‘It’s burned out.’

‘What are you going to do now, Cheyne? You could try strangling me, I suppose. You’d probably fall over and break your neck.’

Now Scarne’s suspicions were confirmed. ‘Luck,’ he said. ‘You’ve given yourself artificial luck.’

‘You asked me why we came back here. You knew already, unless you’re a fool.’

‘I thought you said the technique hadn’t been developed enough to be reliable?’

‘We’ve taken it to the point where we can risk using it, in an emergency. It would have been better,’ Dom added affably, ‘if matters had gone otherwise, of course.’

Scarne reflected. ‘I reckon you’ve already badly miscalculated once. The galactics’ gamesmanship was better than you anticipated. Now you’re using the luck equations. What if that goes wrong somehow, too?’

‘One must estimate the likely outcome. It raises an interesting conundrum. Can one be invested with luck and be unlucky enough to lose it?’

Scarne sighed. ‘You’ve certainly got nerve, I’ll say that. Did you bring me out here just for this little demonstration?’

‘No.’ Dom’s eyes scanned the horizon. ‘I’m looking for Shane. He’s got to be out here somewhere. Probably underground.’

‘And you can find him where others couldn’t?’

‘I’m lucky.’

He put the car in motion again and drove it on its wheels for about a mile, apparently in a direction chosen at random. Then he stopped and pointed to a rise in the ground some distance away.

‘See that bank – a sort of hillock? That could hide something.’

‘It’s far from being a unique feature.’

‘Just the same I think I’ll get somebody to fly over that hillock and take a heat reading,’ Dom said thoughtfully.

He seemed satisfied. He turned the car round and took it off the ground again. They went skimming over the terrain back towards the camp.

‘I think I’ll soon have him back again,’ he exclaimed gladly. ‘The dear boy.’

‘What for?’ Scarne asked in a sudden passion. ‘To make him as corrupt and evil as yourself? Why don’t you leave him alone and give him a chance to live decently?’

‘What’s this, my dear fellow?’ said Dom, affecting surprise. ‘Jealousy?’

‘Jealousy? No …’

‘No, it’s real hatred, real disgust, I can see that. And all based on a misconception, too! All because you think I’ve been gambling away Sol civilization. Putting up humankind as a stake in the game!’

‘Well, haven’t you?’ Scarne asked, puzzled.

‘Why, no, of course not!’ Dom, in high spirits, was laughing at him. ‘Allow me to destroy your delusions, Cheyne. I admit I did nothing to discourage them, but after all I wanted you to have an incentive to play. But did I ever actually say I was putting civilization at risk? The real truth is, I would have done it without a qualm – the higher the stakes, the more we stood to win. But the galactics wouldn’t accept anything we didn’t actually own. We would have had to be in possession of the Legitimacy, and that was something we couldn’t obtain. So it would have been like passing a dud cheque. The galactics don’t let you get away with that.’

‘Then what are the stakes we put up?’ Scarne wanted to know.

‘The Grand Wheel. All our tangible assets, and all our influence. The galactics regard it as a pitch which we operate. Should we lose, it will become theirs.’

‘They will run the Grand Wheel?’

‘Yes. Or do whatever it is they aim to do with it.’

There was silence for a while, except for the rush of air past the speeding car. ‘You’re just as bad as I said,’ Scarne said eventually. ‘You would have done it if you could.’

‘Face facts. We are going to win. I have luck, Cheyne! The goddess’s rays are blazing down on me. Instead of heaping recriminations on me, you should be feeling relief that your fears were groundless.’

But Scarne felt himself too confused to feel such relief. He no longer knew whether he could trust anything Dom said.