Island Worlds by John Maddox Roberts, Eric Kotani Page B

sat at the table beneath the rubber plant. The tempura had been as advertised and he was beginning to feel acclimatized. That was good, because he had a feeling that he was going to need to be in top form to deal with the mysterious Mr. Shaw.
    Idly, he studied the rubber plant. It was a gene-manipulated species which looked identical to the common Earth ornamental plant, but had been engineered to double its oxygen output. Everywhere one looked in the lunar settlements, there were plants springing from pots and planters. They softened the sterile environment, recycled the atmosphere and gradually built up the supply of arable soil.
    "Excuse me, sir." Thor looked up and saw a young woman who facially resembled Nectar and Ambrosia. Apparently yet another of the innumerable Fus. "I'm afraid this table is reserved at this hour. If you don't mind, I'll find you another place and bring you a drink on the house."
    "I have an appointment with the gentleman in question," he lied.
    "Oh, that's different," she said, doubtfully. "Please excuse me." Thor smiled and admired her as she walked gracefully away. This was getting to be better than an old holothriller. But this place was the last where he would have expected to find a classical man of mystery like Shaw.
    The Earthlight Room was full at this hour, and most of the patrons were business people, pilots and other officers from the nearby port, and a large gaggle of tourists, instantly recognizable by their clothing and awkward gait. In short, the place was almost absurdly respectable. Even the stripper pirouetting on the little stage didn't detract from the middle-class atmosphere. The old art form was enjoying a revival on the Moon, and dancers from Earth were coming up to practice it, taking advantage of the kinder effect of lunar gravity on Earth dancers past their prime. Thor judged the lovely, dark-haired woman on the stage to be in her mid-forties, but nothing sagged in one-sixth gee. As he could very plainly see, she showed no signs of surgery.
    "You're Taggart."
    Thor whirled in his chair. Where had the man come from? Just his luck to be staring at a naked woman at the crucial first moment of his meeting with Shaw. To cover his confusion, he gave Shaw what he hoped was an arrogantly evaluating once-over.
    Shaw was a man of medium height and sturdy build, dressed in a spacer's coverall absolutely devoid of insignia or ornament. His face was broad, with a dark beard framing his jaw. His cheekbones were wide and his green eyes had the slightest hint of epicanthic fold in their inner corners. His most prominent feature was his broad, bulging forehead, further emphasized by a high hairline. In classical Greek sculpture, such a brow had been the trademark of the higher gods, and it lent tremendous force to his countenance. The head was a bit large for his body, making Shaw appear shorter than he was. Martin Shaw looked like a formidable man.
    "That's who I am," Thor said. "Please have a seat. We have business to discuss."
    "I think I will, since this is my table. Whether we have business to discuss is another matter. What line of work do you think I'm in, Mr. Taggart?" The waitress brought Shaw a drink and left discreetly.
    "It's difficult to say, since nobody's ever heard of you. Chih' Chin Fu told me you might be able to help me. I need to disappear."
    "Did he tell you I was a magician?"
    "Of sorts. Just hear me out, then tell me if you're interested." Briefly, Thor gave him the story of his doings since the McNaughton party. He omitted most of his financial arrangements, figuring Shaw had no real reason to know those. "Will you help me?" he asked when he was finished.
    "I can. The price is two million gold."
    Thor nodded. That was about ten times the pre-crisis price for a passage to a typical asteroid world, but he would have been suspicious had Shaw asked much less. Thor was running a fairly high risk of imprisonment, although he had family connections to call on in a