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7

 


Three months later, Bailey told Aroon he was leaving.


"The operation's all yours, Gus. I've got what I need. It's time to move on."


"I can't figure you, kid," the older man said, shaking his heavy head. "You take chances that no other guy would touch with a chip-rake—and when they pay off, you bow out. Why not stay on? On your split you could live like a king—


"Sure I could, here. But there are things that need doing that take more than a fat credit balance. I need a tag, to start with. Can you fix it?"


Gus grunted. "It'll cost you a slice of that pile you've been sitting on."


"That's what it's for."


"Class Three Yellow about right?"


Bailey shook his head. "Class One Blue."


"Are you outa your mind, Bailey?" Aroon yelled. "You can't bluff your way Topside!"


"Why not? I bluffed my way into Preke territory."


"Your roll won't carry you a week up there."


"All I need is the price of admission."


"Face it, Bailey. There's more to it than the loot. You don't look like a Cruster, you don't act like one. How could you? Those babies have all the best from the day they're born, the best food, the best education, the best training! They have their own way of walking and talking, sniffing flowers, making up to a frill! They've got class where it shows, and they can back it up! You can't fake it!"


"Who said anything about faking it, Gus? You must know the name of a reliable tapelegger."


"A print man?" Aroon's voice had automatically dropped to a whisper. "Bailey, that ain't demi-chit stuff. Touch a wrong strip and it's a wiping rap!"


"If I'm caught."


"And anyway—a good tech line is worth a fortune! You couldn't touch even a Class Two tape job for under a quarter million."


"I don't want a tech education," Bailey said. "I want a background cultural fill-in—the kind they give a Cruster after a brain injury or wipe therapy."


"I guess there's no need my asking why you want to load your skull with fancy stuff you'll never use, that'll never buy you a night's flop?" Gus said hoarsely.


"Nope. Can you put me on to a right man?"


"If that's the way you want it."


"It's the way it's got to be for where I've got to go."


Aroon nodded heavily. "I owe you that much—and a lot more. You shook this whole lousy setup to bedrock, something that needed doing for a long time." He rose. "Come on. I'll take you there."


"I'll go alone, Gus. Just give me the name and address, and I'm on my way."


"You don't waste much time, do you, kid?"


"I don't have much time to waste."


"What is it you got to do that's eating at you?"


Bailey frowned. "I don't know. I just know the time is short for me to do it."


 


 


 


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Framed