A Dark and Hungry God Arises by Stephen R. Donaldson Page A

the deck in front of him.
    What kind of game.
    He no longer knew whether his eyes were open.
    They're playing.
    Maybe, he thought as he sagged dumbly onto his face, maybe it worked after all.

NICK
    Nick Succorso rubbed the scars on his face as if they were tight with old pain and waited for Billingate Operations to assign him a berth.
    Where he was told to dock would hint at where he stood with the Bill.
    He knew perfectly well that he was pushing the Bill into a difficult position. The Amnion warships - Tranquil Hegemony and now Calm Horizons, looming out of deep space - had certainly been in communication with Thanatos Minor, transmitting their requirements. Also certainly, those requirements weren't to Nick's benefit. And the Bill had to take them seriously. He lived here on sufferance: his hosts could revoke his whole economic existence whenever they wished. In addition, two Amnion warships represented enough firepower to root him out of his rock like a rat out of a hole.
    And then there was the question of selling human beings to forbidden space. The Bill had no moral, or even visceral, qualms about such things: that was sure.
    Nevertheless he was equally sure to have pragmatic qualms. If Thanatos Minor became known as a place where men and women were lost to the Amnion, Billingate would lose traffic. Fewer ships would come; fewer repairs would be done; fewer goods would be sold.
    He wouldn't thank Nick Succorso for bringing problems like that down on his head.
    On the other hand, Nick had credit for the repairs he needed; and providing such repairs brought in much of Billingate's wealth. And the ships which came for repair were the same vessels which brought the resources and information the Amnion craved. Any ship the Bill turned away would have a double impact on his profits.
    Also the circumstances surrounding the sale of Morn and her damnable brat were unique. In this situation, the Bill might believe that he could cooperate with Nick -
    perhaps secretly, perhaps passively - without risking too much damage.
    He wouldn't thank Nick for coming to him now, like this. But he might conceivably do the work Nick needed from him.
    The first indication of his leanings would come when Operations assigned a berth. A visitor's dock or a place in the shipyard? If the Bill treated Captain's Fancy like a visitor, Nick's troubles were just beginning.
    As if Morn hadn't already done him enough harm -
    He still had no idea how she'd escaped from her cabin to reprogram that ejection pod. The maintenance computer reported that the lock on her door worked fine.
    His crew volunteered nothing. Someone had betrayed him, but he didn't know who - or why.
    'Damn them all to hell and shit, ' he muttered. What the fuck's taking so long?'
    Mikka Vasaczk and her watch had the bridge while Captain's fancy coasted toward the rock. Sib Mackern sat at the data station because he and Alba Parmute were sharing the work of three people; but Scorz was a competent replacement for Lind on communications, Ransum could manage helm despite her jittery hands, and Karster was safe enough at targ. The scan second, Arkenhill, was no substitute for Carmel - who was? -
    and this close to Thanatos Minor, as well as to two Amnion warships, scan was critical; but Mikka was watching everything that came in through Arkenhill's board almost as carefully as Nick himself did.
    In any case, Captain's Fancy was moving too slowly to survive a fight. She might inflict damage, but she would be destroyed nonetheless.
    While his ship glided along her approach trajectory toward Billingate, Nick paced the bridge and studied the screens and fretted as if he had worms gnawing inside him. The electricity, the combative frisson, which usually filled his nerves like eagerness when death and ruin threatened him was gone. The knowledge that he could beat anybody had been replaced by the fear that Morn had dug a hole too deep for him to climb out of.
    There was no question about it: he