good-bye. The Shopping Center already got enough flak from parents whose
children had lost money here. And if the kid were clever enough to press
charges...
The proprietor finally spoke over youthful screaming. "Okay, so I'll pay. Pago,
pago... you little son of a bitch." He pulled a handful of gAu notes out of his
cash box and shoved them at the boy. "Now get out."
The black kid was out the door before anyone else. Rosas eyed his departure
thoughtfully. Tellman went on, plaintively, talking as much to himself as anyone
else. "I don't know. I just don't know. The little bastard has been in here all
morning. I swear he had never seen a game board before. But he watched and
watched. Diego Martinez had to explain it to him. He started playing. Had barely
enough money. And he just got better and better. I never seen anything like
it... In fact" ў he brightened and looked at Mike ў "in fact, I think I been set
up. I betcha the kid is carrying a processor and just pretending to be young and
dumb. Hey, Rosas, how about that? I should be protected. There's some sorta con
here, especially on that last game. He ў
" ў really did have a snowball's chance, eh, Telly?" Rosas finished where the
proprietor had broken off. "Yeah, I know. You had a sure win. The odds should
have been a thousand to one-not the even money you gave him. But I know
symbiotic processing, and there's no way he could do it without some really
expensive equipment." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Naismith nod
agreement. "Still" ў he rubbed his jaw and looked out into the brightness beyond
the entrance ў "I'd like to know more about him."
Naismith followed him out of the tent, while behind them Tellman sputtered. Most
of the children were still visible, standing in clumps along the Tinkers' mall.
The mysterious winner was nowhere to be seen. And yet he should have been. The
game area opened onto the central lawn which gave a clear view down all the
malls. Mike spun around a couple times, puzzled. Naismith caught up with him. "I
think the boy has been about two jumps ahead of us since we started watching
him, Mike. Notice how he didn't argue when Tellman gave him the boot. Your
uniform must have spooked him."
"Yeah. Bet he ran like hell the second he got outside."
"I don't know. I think he's more subtle than that." Naismith put a finger to his
lips and motioned Rosas to follow him around the banners that lined the side of
the game shop.
There was not much need for stealth. The shoppers were noisy, and the loading of
furniture onto several carts behind the refurbishers' pavilion was accompanied
by shouting and laughter.
The early afternoon breeze off Vandenberg set the colored fabric billowing.
Double sunlight left nothing to shadow. Still, they almost tripped over the boy
curled up under the edge of a tarp. The boy exploded like a bent spring,
directly into Mike's arms: If Rosas had been of the older generation, there
would have been no contest: Ingrained respect for children and an unwillingness
to damage them would have let the kid slip from his grasp. But the undersheriff
was willing to play fairly rough, and for a moment there was a wild mass of
swinging arms and legs. Mike saw something gleam in the boy's hand, and then
pain ripped through his arm.
Rosas fell to his knees as the boy, still clutching the knife, pulled loose and
sprinted away. He was vaguely conscious of red spreading through the tan fabric
of his left sleeve. He narrowed his eyes against the pain and drew his service
