Free Man Who Used the Universe by Alan Dean Foster Page B

pay me back for the information. Since I'm entirely legal, I have no interest in such vile commerce myself. However, if you require a loan to cover the amount of purchase . . ."
    Prax smiled easily. "I think I can cover the acquisition, unless you think this Loo-Macklin will be difficult."
    "I doubt it. He's a sensible-seeming young fellow."
    "What do you estimate his holdings to be worth?"
    The counselor leaned over and sorted through a pile of clothing. He extricated a small cube and punched codes into it. Information appeared instantly on the tiny screen.
    "Given his annualized income over the past five years, compared with what is known of his illegal commercial base, I'd say perhaps eight million credits; though if you had to offer as high as ten, it wouldn't be out of line. I would not go higher than that."
    Prax nodded, considered a moment, then said, "I can manage that without any trouble. You really think he'll sell out, then?"
    "As I said, he strikes me from the reports I've commissioned as a very intelligent young man." Momblent fiddled absently with the cube. "Also, I have considerable confidence in your persuasive capabilities. He could resist, try to hang onto what he's built up for the rest of his life, but any future attempts at interworld expansion would be met with force at every turn. We could shut him down quickly on smaller worlds like Matrix and Vlox, drive him back to his base on Evenwaith. He's relatively impregnable there, but even so we could make things uncomfortable for him.
    "No, I think he'll sell out. I don't know what his inner desires are, but I think he'd be happy to turn legal and set out to pasture. For one thing, from the reports I've read, he's spent so much time building up his organization that he's had no time to himself."
    "Women?" asked Prax, encompassing much in one word.
    "There's a slightly older woman who's around him constantly," replied the counselor, "but from what I'm told there's nothing between them but business. There have been other liaisons, always brief, never intense."
    Prax had no further questions. He rose, drink in hand. Momblent slid off the bench and they shook hands, each studying the other respectfully, warily: eyes trying to see beyond cameras.
    "Thank you for bringing this business opportunity to my notice, Counselor."
    "Tut. What are friends for, Prax?"
    "Indeed." The illegal stepped back. "You can report to your concerned friends that their interests will not suffer from the attentions of this Loo-Macklin or any of his underlings. His avariciousness will be checked."
    "I'm sure it will," said Momblent confidently. "He is a curious personality. I wish I could unearth more of his early background." He shrugged. "No matter. It will be interesting to see what he does with all that money. Quite a sum for a man his age to come into, when combined with his present personal fortune."
    "A nice little savings," agreed Prax, to whom eight millions were a matter of everyday exchange. "If I were in his position, I'd take it and retire, ease back, and enjoy the rest of my life."
    "Yes, but, of course, you're not him. Your ambitions and your goals rest on a higher plane altogether."
    "That's true, Counselor," agreed Prax, smiling broadly. "For example, I'm still not first status. That's important to me, but not to most people. Most people never dream of reaching for the upper rung."
    "No, they don't," Momblent agreed.

Chapter 5

    Khryswhy burst into the room. Her hair was in disarray, she was panting hard, and the clinging blue nebula she wore pulsed with her breathing.
    Loo-Macklin glanced up from the compact work station, his attention shifting from the computer readout he'd been monitoring. "Something wrong, Khryswhy?"
    She stalked over to the desk, put both hands on it as she leaned down to glare at him. Her voice was low, intense. "I hear that you've been visited by representatives of the First Syndicate from Restavon."
    He nodded slowly, once. "That's right."
    "I