Free Soothsayer by Mike Resnick

the left of yours.” He paused. “Probably he's here on a job. Didn't seem my place to ask."
    "It wasn't,” said the Mouse, starting to climb the stairs.
    They reached Room 203 a moment later. It was small and relatively clean, although even the sealed window couldn't keep all of the dust out of the room. There were two airbeds, a holographic video and a computer (neither of which could be operated without inserting a personal credit cube into them), a desk, two rather stark wooden chairs, and a bathroom containing a chemical toilet and a dryshower.
    The Mouse sat on the edge of her bed, and Penelope, after propping Jennifer up against a pillow, seated herself on her own bed.
    "I'm sorry,” said the girl. “About Three-Fisted Ollie, I mean. I just blurted it out."
    "No matter. He knew we were lying anyway."
    "Will he report us, do you think?"
    "To whom?” asked the Mouse with no show of concern. “He's as close to being the law as you can get out here. Besides, he doesn't know who we are."
    "He'll find out."
    "You can see that in the future?"
    Penelope shook her head. “No ... but sooner or later they always find out."
    "Maybe not this time,” said the Mouse. “I want to have a little chat with the Forever Kid."
    "But he's a killer!"
    "But not a bounty hunter."
    "What's the difference?” asked Penelope.
    "There's a difference between capturing you and killing you,” explained the Mouse. “Most of the men and women who are after you want you alive. This isn't the kind of man they'd hire to find you. His specialty is death."
    "Maybe he was hired to kill whoever I'm with."
    "It's a possibility,” admitted the Mouse. “That's why I want to talk to him alone. If he's available, I want to hire him to protect us until we can hook up with Merlin again."
    "What about me?"
    "You're going to stay in the room. I'll bring your dinner back to you."
    "But I can help you,” protested Penelope. “If he wants to kill you, I'll know."
    "Even if he wants to kill me, he won't do it until he knows where you are."
    "The bartender will tell him."
    "Not unless he tells the bartender who he's looking for, and why ... and killers tend to be pretty close-mouthed, especially when there's a reward for their victims.” The Mouse paused. “It's a gamble, but we've got to take it."
    "Why?"
    "Because he's got to have a ship,” she explained patiently. “If I can hire him to protect us until we can connect up again with Merlin, it means we won't have to drive out into the desert and try to steal a ship from one of the miners—and I've got a feeling they protect their ships as devoutly as they protect their diamonds."
    Penelope frowned unhappily. “I thought we were supposed to be a team,” she said.
    "We are,” the Mouse assured her. “But different members of a team have different duties. I don't perform Merlin's magic tricks, you know."
    "What's my duty?” asked the girl.
    "For the next few days, it's to warn me of danger,” said the Mouse. “But only if showing yourself doesn't put us in even more danger."
    "All right,” said Penelope thoughtfully. “That seems fair."
    "Good.” The Mouse lay back on the bed. “I'm exhausted. That heat seems to have drained me. I'm going to take a nap.” She reached into her pocket, withdrew a credit cube that she had appropriated on Westerly, and tossed it to Penelope. “Why don't you watch the video, and wake me at twilight?"
    "All right,” said the girl.
    Penelope shook the Mouse awake a moment later.
    "What is it?"
    "The cube doesn't work,” said the girl.
    "Hmm. I guess the owner reported that it was missing.” The Mouse dug into her pocket and withdrew three more cubes. “Throw that one away and try these. One of them ought to work."
    She lay back again, and a moment later heard Penelope giggling at something she saw on the holographic screen. Then she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, and didn't move a muscle until Penelope tapped her gently on the shoulder.
    "Didn't any of the