Free Children of a Dead Earth Book One by Patrick S Tomlinson

about who to sell them to. We were getting bids on stuff through back channels and plant messages every ten seconds.”
    â€œFrom who?” Benson jumped from his seat. “That’s what I need to know. Your accomplices are all dead, I understand that, but your buyers aren’t. We’ve caught a lot of them, but a lot of pieces were turned in anonymously. If I know who the players were, then maybe I can apply some pressure and figure out not only how this kid came to have a Monet hanging in his home, but why he went missing.”
    â€œSorry, detective,” Sal shook his head, “but I can’t help you.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause powerful people are on that list. As low as I’ve been knocked down here, they can still hurt me. No, I’m going to hunker down until I’m strapped into my shuttle seat down to the surface, then take my chances.”
    Benson leaned back. “I’m confused. You talk like you’re being persecuted, but you think you’re going to be given a spot in the colony?”
    Sal smiled. “I like you, detective. You’re still young enough to buy into the whole idea of ‘justice’. But I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that I’m on the second shuttle down. The first will be loaded with debutants. The second will be loaded with us disposables, the people who’ll be hacking down the trees or whatever, shoveling the ditches and pouring the concrete. The people taking all the real risks, the ones they won’t mind losing when a tree falls the wrong way, or some wild animal gets past the fence. Nobody relies on me, they made sure of that. I got no family left, never got approved for kids, and now I’m too old to start. What do you think that makes me?”
    Benson smiled. “I think my father was fifty-seven when I was bor… when he had me, and that the whole reproductive selection process probably isn’t going to survive Landing. But that’s not anything I can guarantee. Instead, I have something else you might be interested in.”
    Sal looked skeptical, to say the least, but nodded for him to continue.
    â€œI know you’ve been banned for life from the museum. What if I could get you private time, after hours? No one to disturb you.”
    A hearty laugh erupted from deep in Sal’s belly. “Why don’t you head outside and part the reclamation lake while you’re at it?”
    â€œLaugh all you like, but Madame Feynman and I are on very good terms. In fact, she owes me a favor.”
    â€œShe owes you a favor. Me, she’d just as soon see ‘recycled’ as spit on me.”
    â€œMaybe so, but if any of the names you coughed up meant even one more piece of her lost collection was returned to her loving care, I guarantee she’d carry you piggyback through a guided tour.”
    Sal regarded him coolly, but Benson thought he saw a flickering spark of optimism, too.
    â€œC’mon Sal, what do you say? Is it worth taking a little risk for a real look at some old flames? I hear the Birth of Venus is coming out of storage for a viewing this week. You haven’t seen her in a while, have you?”
    â€œThat’s not fighting fair, son. Did you cheat this bad in the Zero can, too?”
    Benson bristled at the accusation. “I never cheated, Mr Kite. Maybe they did write a few new rules as a direct response to some of my more brilliant formation building, but that was after the fact.”
    The old man smirked, recognizing a kindred spirit when he saw one. “One last chance to stick my thumb in their eye, eh?”
    Benson nodded.
    â€œTour first. If that doesn’t happen, I ain’t saying nothing.”
    â€œNaturally. I’ll speak to Feynman as soon as I leave here. You’ll have an answer before your next shift starts.”
    â€œMaybe my last shift, too.” Sal’s eyes fixed on the bottom of his glass. He swirled the whiskey