Mike Resnick The Three Legged Hootch Dancer

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"Good," said Hint. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"I wonder why the Corporation ever made an accommodation with you in the first place," said
Kargennian sullenly.
"For the same reason you made an accommodation."
"And what was that?"
"No choice," grinned Flint. He stood up and stretched. "And now, Mr. Ahasuerus, if you think you can
handle the choice of our rides, I've got to go tell Barbara to pack." He walked to the door and stopped.
"Hey, Kargennian?"
"Yes?"
"Tell you what. You were such a good loser, I'll toss Gloria in for free."
"To work the games?"
"To strip."
"No, thank you, Mr. Flint."
"You're sure? You'd be making her very happy."
"Making people happy isn't my business, Mr. Flint," said Kargennian.
Flint shrugged, left the room, and tracked Barbara down in the mess hall. She didn't like the idea of being
the only human in Kargennian's circus, but the thought of four months'
triple-time pay weakened her resolve, and finally she consented, without Flint thankfully noticed ever
once wondering where she would be able to spend her newfound riches.
Then he went up to Gloria's room, knocked on the door, and waited for her to open it.
"What do you want?" she said coldly, but stepped aside to let him in.
"I want to tell you that I tried my damnedest to get the efficiency expert to take you with him, and he
turned me down cold."
"I'll just bet you tried!"
"I did. You can ask Mr. Ahasuerus."
"Then I'm stuck here," she said dully.
"For the time being," Flint replied. "However, now that I've introduced the notion of trading personnel
around, I think it's just a matter of time before we can place you somewhere where you'll be happier."
"Who did you trade?" she asked, interested in spite of herself.
"Barbara."
"I'm ten times the stripper she is!"
"He didn't want a stripper. Barbara's going with him to show his crew how to run the games."
"I'll bet she convinces him to let her strip," said Gloria bitterly.
"No chance," said Flint. "First of all, she doesn't like stripping. And second, round little red things aren't
going to want to watch a woman take off her clothes any more than the birdmen did."
"You really tried?" she asked at last, looking into his eyes.
"I really did."
"Then it's over," she said softly. "It's over, and Butterfly Delight is dead, and I'm here forever." She
lowered her head for a moment, then said: "Damn you for ever meeting me, Thaddeus Flint." She took a
deep breath. "Tell the Rigger I'll report for work tomorrow morning."
Flint walked out of the room, and Gloria Stunkel lay on her bed, and cried, and mourned the unheralded
passing of Butterfly Delight, the greatest artiste and ecdysiast in the galaxy.
9.
"Okay now, love," said Diggs, lighting a thin cigar and pushing his straw boater back on his head, "let me
show you how the shell game works."
"You just put a pea under one of the shells and move them all around," said Gloria, stepping closer to the
booth's counter to keep out of the sun.
"Sounds pretty simple, right?" grinned Diggs.
He took a pea, placed it under one of the three shells, and began moving them slowly around the counter.
"Okay," he said after a moment. "Where's the pea?"
Gloria pointed to the left-hand shell, and Diggs picked it up, revealing the pea.
"Pretty good," he said, still smiling. He covered the pea, moved them around again, and then looked at
her question-ingly. "And now?"
She pointed to the middle shell, and again she was right.
"You're a very perceptive young lady, my dear," said Diggs. "Let's try it one more time only this time,
let's make it a little more interesting. Shall we bet a dollar?"
Gloria shrugged and nodded.
Diggs began moving the shells again, even slower than before. His hands, which could appear as little
more than a blur when shuffling a deck of cards, seemed almost to be moving in slow motion. At last he
was finished.
"Well?"
"The middle one," said Gloria.
Diggs picked up the middle shell, and pursed his lips in mock sympathy when no pea appeared.
"Too bad, my dear," he said, trying not to laugh. "But just because of my generous nature, I'm going to
give you a chance to win your dollar back. I'll bet you five to one that you can't guess which shell the pea
is under."
"Without moving them again?" she asked suspiciously.
He said nothing, but folded his arms behind his back.
"The left one," said Gloria.
"Pick itup," replied Diggs.
She did so. There was no pea.
"Damn!" she said. "I had the funniest feeling that it was on the right all along."
"Care to bet?" grinned Diggs.
She reached out and picked up the shell.
"Where did it go?" she demanded.
"Well, now," he chuckled, "that's what you're here to learn, isn't it?"
"You cheated!" she said accusingly.
" 'Cheat' is an ugly word, love," grinned the Rigger. He reached a hand out and pretended to pluck the
pea from behind Gloria's right ear.
"You palmed it!"
"Actually, I didn't," he smiled. "This is a different pea. Keep your eye on the table."
He touched a small button with his foot, and a tiny hole appeared.
"All you have to do is remember where the hole is, so you know where to place the shell with the pea.
This second pea is just to keep the suckers from wondering what happened to the first one." He paused.
"Simple, but effective."
"Simple, but dishonest," said Gloria.
"You're being too harsh, my dear," he said. "After all, we played three games and you won two of them."
"No matter how you justify it, it's still dishonest," said Gloria.
"You mustn't rush to moral judgments of your peers,"
77
said Diggs. "After all, I don't complain about the fact that you disrobe in public."
"What I do is an arf!"
"I will grant that for the sake of argument," said the Rigger. "But by the same token, you must accept that
what we do at the game booths is also an art."
"What's artful about putting a hole in the counter?" said Gloria contemptuously.
"For that matter, what's artful about breakaway clothing?" replied Diggs calmly. "Both are devices [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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