Free Wild Cards [02] Aces High by George R.R. Martin

possessions the guy had with him. That's all they wanted said."
    "I guess it's their business what they want it for. But what kind of money are they talking?"
    "It's worth fifty grand to them."
    "Fifty grand? For a stiff?" Croyd stopped eating and stared. "You've got to be kidding."
    "Nope. I can give you ten now and forty when you deliver. "
    "And if I can't pull it ofl?"
    "You get to keep the ten, for trying. You interested?" Croyd took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah," he said then. "I'm interested. But I don't even know where the morgue is."
    "It's in the medical examiner's office at Five-Twenty First Avenue. "
    "Okay. Say I go over there and-"
    Hairy came by and laid a plate of sausages and hash browns before Croyd. He refilled his coffee cup and placed several bills and some coins on the table.
    "Your change, sir."
    Croyd looked at the money.
    "What do you mean?" he said. "I didn't pay you yet."
    "You gave me a fifty."
    "No, I didn't. I'm not finished."
    It looked as if Hairy smiled, deep within the dark dense pelt that covered him entirely.
    "I wouldn't stay in business long if I gave away money," he said. "I know when I'm making change."
    Croyd shrugged and nodded. "I guess so."
    Croyd furrowed his brows when Hairy had left, and he shook his head.
    "I didn't pay him, Jube," he said.
    "I don't remember seeing you pay him either. But he said a fifty. . . . That's hard to forget."
    "Peculiar, too. Because I was thinking of breaking a fifty here when I was done."
    "Oh? Do you recall when the thought passed through your mind?"
    "Yeah. When he brought the waffles:"
    "Did you actually have a mental image of taking out a fifty and handing it to him?"
    "Yes."
    "Interesting. . . ."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I think that may be your power this timesome kind of telepathic hypnosis. You'll just have to play with it a bit to get the hang of it, to find its limits."
    Croyd nodded slowly.
    "Please don't try it on me, though. I'm screwed up enough as it is today."
    "Why? You got some stake in this corpse business?"
    "The less you know the better, Croyd. Believe me."
    "Okay, I can see that. I don't really care, anyway. Not for what they're paying," he said. "So I take this job. Say everything goes smoothly and I've got this body. What do I do with it?"
    Jube withdrew a pen and a small notebook from an inside pocket. He wrote for a moment, tore off a sheet, and passed it to Croyd. Then he dug in his side pocket, produced a key, and put it next to Croyd's plate.
    "That address is about five blocks from here," he said. "'Rented room' ground floor. The key fits the lock. You take it there, lock it in, and come tell me at the stand."
    Croyd began eating again. After a time, he said, "Okay."
    "Good."
    "But they've probably got more than one John Doe in there this time of year. Winos who freeze to death-you know. How do I know which one is the right one?"
    "I was getting to that. This guy's a joker, see? A little fellow. About five feet tall, maybe. Looks kind of like a big bug-legs that fold up like a grasshopper's, an exoskeleton with some fur on it, four fingers on his hands with three joints each, eyes on the sides of his head, vestigial wings on back . . ."
    "I get the picture. Sounds hard to confuse with the standard model."
    "Yes. Shouldn't weigh much either."
    Croyd nodded. Someone in the front of the restaurant said, ". . . pterodactyl!" and Croyd turned his head in time to see the winged shape flit by the window.
    "That kid again," Jube said.
    "Yeah. Wonder who he's pestering this time?"
    "You know him?"
    "Uh-huh. He shows up every now and then. Kind of an aces fan. At least he doesn't know what I look like this time. Anyway. . . . How soon do they need this body?"
    "The sooner the better."
    "Anything you can tell me about the setup at the morgue?"
    Jube nodded slowly.
    "Yes. It's a six-story building. Labs and offices and such, upstairs. Reception and viewing area on the ground floor. They keep the bodies in the basement.